


Viability

by MelyndaR



Series: Don't Fear the Fall [12]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Captivity, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 12:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 32,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelyndaR/pseuds/MelyndaR
Summary: Compassion and confusion both flickered in Seven’s expression as she offered, “I’m sure that you can move past whatever difficulties you may have faced this week. You’re young and resilient. You will adapt, and you will overcome.”
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine, Greskrendtregk & Naomi Wildman, Greskrendtregk/Samantha Wildman, Harry Kim/Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres, Icheb/Q Junior/Naomi Wildman, Kathryn Janeway/T'Pel (Star Trek)/Tuvok (Star Trek), T'Pel/Tuvok (Star Trek)
Series: Don't Fear the Fall [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552054
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so, unlike with the other stories in this series/these series, this story isn't finished yet, but it's Father's Day, and... since I have written this story to a certain point, I couldn't resist posting it to a particular scene because... yeah. So, here's MOST of this story tonight. Please let me know what you think!

_Vulcan, 2374:_

“In case it wasn’t clear before now,” Gres said, standing at the end of the ramp that led into the shuttle that Assan had been loaned by Starfleet. “If you get onboard this shuttle now, you’re agreeing to become an outlaw in the eyes of the Federation.”

“In case it wasn’t clear before now,” Assan countered, stepping onto the ramp. “Participating in the conversations we’ve had over the past few days without reporting it to the authorities still makes you at least an accessory to… a few crimes.”

“He has a point,” Gres said with a shrug and a matching expression of flippancy. “You might as well come on, guys,” he decided, jogging up the ramp behind Assan.

Nine more people followed them. _As if there had ever been any doubt that they would, by now,_ Assan thought.

His mother was the next to come aboard, tamping down a nervous smile as she stood beside Gres and doled out orders concerning decisions that had already been reached yesterday. “Sek, Gres, and Assan are at the helm. T’Lin, you know what quarters have been assigned to whom, so you oversee making sure everyone’s bags get the right area. T’Meni, Alessi, Farun is in charge of you for the foreseeable future, so you, Farun, can take them anywhere you would like to mind them.”

“Except for the bridge,” Solik said.

“Of course not,” Farun agreed, taking the hand of a little girl in each of hers.

“Solik, go help T’Lin.” T’Pel continued, undeterred. “Asil, the mess hall is your responsibility from now on; I’ll be momentarily in to help you make sure everything is as it should be. And you, Miss Hannah,” T’Lin looped arms with the only human to have boarded the ship, giving her a small smile. “Are coming with us.”

Despite what T’Pel had told Asil, she turned with Hannah and followed the trio that was standing at the helm. Seeing that all four seats, each for a different console of the control panel, were still unoccupied, she waved the three men towards them, ordering, “Sit. Aren’t we going?”

“Yes, we are,” Assan said, glaring at Sek. His older brother was being needlessly argumentative and perverse with him, as he had been ever since Hannah had agreed to come with them. “But there seems to be some disagreement over what we’ve previously decided our positions are.”

T’Pel frowned, squaring her shoulders and giving each of her sons a quelling glare of her own as she said, “Positions? Let me remind you what your positions are here: I make personnel decisions, Gres makes tactical decisions – we are in charge – and you _sit_ when you are told to sit.”

Four surprised pairs of eyes turned towards T’Pel as she pulled out a chair at the tactical console and ordered Sek, “Now, my son, sit.”

Assan could not recall his mother ever using such a severe tone with any of her children before, and apparently neither could Sek, because he immediately did as told his face tight with… tension – because he didn’t feel embarrassment – at being spoken to in such a way.

Still aggravated, Assan wondered if Sek’s own attitude bothered him as much as their mother’s words to him had. When T’Pel turned her gaze to him, though, pointing wordlessly to the chair at the engineering console, Assan sat before she could be given another reason to use the tone she’d adopted with Sek.

Breathing air back into the room, Gres said lightly to Hannah, “I guess that means you’re going to be our starting pilot, if you’re okay with that?”

She nodded, breaking away from T’Pel to slide into the pilot’s seat as Gres took control of the ops console. If she was uncomfortable sitting between the two unhappy brothers, she didn’t show it; in fact, Assan noted, she seemed to relax a little, even amongst all these near-strangers, once she knew what was expected of her.

“Sir, you ought to go sit at the tables in the mess hall,” Hannah informed his mother. “As the furniture in there should be bolted to the floor. Just for the duration of take-off. I don’t want any injuries already if it can be helped. And you should tell the others to do the same.”

T’Pel nodded, heading away from the helm and down the hall as she said, “Just call down the hall when we’re free to move. I’ll want to come back up, as I still have a few questions.”

“Certainly, sir.”

_“You don’t have to call her ‘sir,’”_ Assan thought, projecting the thought through his and Hannah’s bond. _“She’s no one’s captain.”_

_“Did you see the way she looked at you? I think she might be captain now,”_ Hannah shot back, and there was a layer of teasing in her tone – even though she meant it – that made Assan smile to himself as Hannah began the lift-off sequence.

When they had successfully broken orbit, Sek – who had the naturally loudest voice out of the four of them – called the all-clear to the others, and, as she’d said she would, their mother came back to the helm, asking Assan, “Won’t Starfleet be looking for you? Your week is up, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Assan grinned with his eyes alone in Gres’ direction, and Gres, in turn, rolled his eyes good-naturedly at Assan. “However, there was a misunderstanding about how… the week works.”

“It’s hard for it to be called a ‘misunderstanding’ when no one really knows how it works in the first place,” Gres pointed out.

“Because it’s none of your business to know,” Sek replied, ever the pinnacle of Vulcan ideals.

“My point being,” Assan continued. “That Gres was under the impression that once a week was… contracted by a wife when a man mated with her, she needed a week from the moment that happened. He was trying to be kind, and thereby arranged for me to get an extension on my PTO. So, I have a few extra days before they realize I’m missing.”

“Useful,” T’Pel said approvingly in Gres direction before turning to him and saying a little more seriously, “Thank you for looking out for my son.”

In helping Assan to find Hannah, Gres had done more than he realized, but no one had pointed that out to him for fear of what he would think of the information. Now, Gres just nodded respectfully, replying with a tilted smile, “Of course.”

“But, no,” T’Pel waved a hand, brightening the somber mood that had been threatening to descend again as she said in a confidential tone, “The female in the mating ritual is far more able to control her… feelings, generally, and once her mate’s body chemistry begins to return to normal, so does hers, no matter how long they have or haven’t been… together.”

Sek turned to their mother, horrified that she was being so candid with another person about such a private matter, but he didn’t dare contradict her again so soon after raising her ire.

Assan smiled inwardly at his discomfort but kept his thoughts to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

His mother asked Assan, “Does this shuttle have a name?”

He shook his head. “Only a numerical designation.”

“I think it ought to have a name, if it’s our shuttle now,” she announced.

Gres nodded self-importantly, trying to assist her in keeping the mood light as he said, “I agree.”

“Does anyone have any ideas?” T’Pel asked.

The three men glanced at one another, feeling utterly uninspired for a moment, until Gres murmured thoughtfully, his gaze suddenly a thousand lightyears away, “ _Aceso_.”

“What’s that?” T’Pel asked quizzically.

“Aceso,” Gres repeated. “An ancient earthen goddess of the healing process. It’s…” he hesitated before admitting, “Also a nickname I occasionally used for someone… a long time ago.”

_ Four years ago, for Ensign Wildman,  _ Assan would’ve staked anything on it, but he said nothing.

It was Hannah who offered softly, her gaze gentle, “I like it.”

“Me too,” T’Pel agreed. She tapped the console space between Gres and Assan, christening, “ _Aceso._ May you carry us safely on.”

“As we boldly go,” Gres added with a wry twist of his lips.

* * *

The synthesized nighttime that was part of life aboard a spacecraft had descended upon them, and the shuttle had fallen quiet and still except for the humming and beeps of machinery. Only a quarter of an hour ago, Assan had relieved both Gres and Sek of their positions for the night, telling them that he could watch engineering, ops, and tactical from one screen so that they could sleep. Now, he and Hannah were alone, the only two people awake, he suspected, and the air between them was growing uncomfortably thick.

His wife was upset about something, he could vaguely tell through their bond, but he didn’t know what, and he didn’t know what to do about it. So, he simply started there, saying, “You are upset. Can I help?”

Ensign Whitley – _Hannah, she had asked them all to call her Hannah, and he, of all people ought to honor that_ – shrugged listlessly. “I don’t know. I just… have suspicions that worry me.”

“About what?” Assan asked curiously.

She paused before asking frankly, “Did you and your brothers always fight, or is that because of me?”

For a moment, Assan mentally scrambled, in a way that was very insufficient for a Vulcan, to find something to say, but the truth was what sprang to his tongue, and he gave it to her. “Sek and I have always fought occasionally, yes. You have to understand: in a way that has nothing to do with you, I was already the family… the human term is ‘black sheep.’ The one who worries people, the family disappointment. And I don’t know where you got the idea that Solik and I are arguing at all.”

“I guess that’s accurate, because Solik is not talking to you at all. Is _that_ my fault?”

“No. Their prejudices are their fault, and it’s disgusting that they have them. Believe me, it is reprehensible.” He could instinctively feel the next question coming, and he beat her to asking it as he inquired, “Are you aware we never really discussed whether or not we wanted to dissolve the marriage?”

“I am,” she took a deep breath, still staring out the viewscreen as she asked, “What do you want to do?”

He shook his head. “I asked you. What do you want to do?”

“ _I_ don’t want to cause trouble. You’ve done too much for me for that.”

“No, we saved each other, remember?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, caught him watching her, and just as quickly turned her gaze back to the viewscreen. “I will do whatever you want, Assan.”

“I _want_ you to assert your opinion,” he countered. “Relearn how to take some real control of your life after your time with Cakin Nolratt.”

She turned in her chair to face him, her gaze suddenly hard as she demanded, “Don’t give me some victim treatment; I don’t need that, and I don’t want it. Do you want to stay married or not? Yes or no question; it shouldn’t be hard.”

_ Yet it was _ , Assan realized suddenly, and the indecision that flashed through Hannah’s eyes said she’d registered his thought for herself. 

“Do you want to stay married?” she asked cautiously.

“I want to do whatever I can to make you the most comfortable you can be, now that you’ve lashed yourself to a ship full of Vulcans for possibly the rest of your life.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” she replied thoughtfully. “It seems pretty _un_ comfortable to get a divorce and _still_ be stuck on the same vessel together.”

“You wish to remain married?” he hazarded, surprised by the careful hope he felt.

“So far, I like you, Assan, and that’s coming from a girl who’s figuring out how to poke around in your brain, so… yeah, I think I want to give this a good shot – and, like I said, I definitely prefer it to getting a divorce after the week we’ve just had, and then still being around each other.”

Assan allowed himself to smile carefully at her as he admitted, “I agree. I want that too.”

She returned his smile, reaching across their consoles to take his hand and strengthen their bond through touch as she replied, “Good.”

Biting back a smile that was still threatening to widen he repeated, “I agree.”

_ And for now, that was good enough. _

* * *

_ Gamma Quadrant _

“That… should not have worked,” Sek declared, his eyes saying he was in awe even if his tone didn’t.

The pall of worry and tension that had been hanging over them all before they’d travelled through the Bajoran wormhole lifted as they came out the other side, almost clear of Federation space now.

Gres laughed aloud, asking Sek teasingly, “You doubt my operations and engineering skills?”

Sek shook his head, admitting, “Not anymore.”

“Good,” Gres said firmly, still grinning as he bumped his shoulder jovially against Sek’s where Sek now sat at the engineering console and Gres at ops, two days after they’d begun their journey.

“Not to destroy your happiness,” Solik said from where he was loitering near Assan’s seat at the tactical console. “But doesn’t this mean we’re officially entering enemy territory?”

“Nah,” Gres waved his worry away a little too casually. “For today, we’re still in Federation space. Tomorrow is when we hit Dominion space and the real fun starts.”

Assan saw Solik swallow a sigh as he wandered off, muttering, “Lovely.”


	3. Chapter 3

_2377:_

_“The female in the mating ritual is far more able to control her… feelings, generally, and once her mate’s body chemistry begins to return to normal, so does hers, no matter how long they have or haven’t been… together.”_

Assan had no proof that the words he remembered his mother saying were relevant, but three years after they’d begun their voyage into the Delta Quadrant, they were all stuck solidly into a routine, and deviances from that routine were noticed. For the past week, his mother had deviated from her routine. Co-captain or not, she had remained in her quarters for a week straight, allowing no one but T’Lin to enter with food a couple times a day.

Whenever pressed, T’Lin would reveal only that his mother was finally getting back into the habit of meditating. After both Assan and his mother had spent the past six or so years only occasionally doing so, though, he had trouble believing that she would suddenly immerse herself in meditation so completely. Unless she had a very good reason.

So, he suspected the pon farr, but he knew better than to ask such questions outright.

Alessi, as a toddler who had been kept from her mother and relegated to sharing quarters with Asil for the past week, had no such inhibitions. “Where’s Mother?!” his little sister demanded, standing outside their mother’s quarters and stomping her foot demandingly.

“Stop that,” Farun ordered sternly. “You oughtn’t be so sharp with adults. Be more sedate, like T’Meni is.”

Alessi scowled at Farun, and Assan and Gres stepped forward at the same time from opposite sides of the hall. Gres reached Alessi first and scooped her high into his arms with an exaggerated groan. “Never mind about your mother. Hannah and I are getting ready to swap helm shifts with Sek and Solik—” _Who had learned how to fly_ Aceso _rather than give into boredom over the past three years._ “Would you like to play pilot for a little while?”

Alessi nodded agreeably at her favorite man aboard. “Alright.”

“Alright,” Gres repeated, beaming adoringly at Alessi as he propped her on his shoulder and carried the now-giggling girl towards the helm.

“He spoils her,” Farun muttered under her breath.

Assan was quick to point out, “Most of us do. They’re good for each other, though, I think.”

“She may be good for him,” Farun disagreed. “But that does not mean the benefit is mutual.”

Assan shrugged. He’d learned over the years that silence was often the best option when dealing with his sullen sister-in-law. “Then I will agree to disagree,” he said before walking away.

It wasn’t that the past week had gone badly with his mother barricaded away, but – though no one mentioned anything about it – they were all glad when she emerged from her room a couple days later, seeming physically no worse for the wear.

Looking into her eyes though, Assan decided that it had been years since he had seen quite so much grief in her regarding his father’s absence.

_But then, save for Assan’s beautiful wife, their shared grief over their lost relatives was what drove them each to be on this journey at all._

* * *

_Delta Quadrant, 2380:_

Three more years into their journey, _Aceso_ had taken many more beatings than she had ever really been intended for, and their lack of an engineer was starting to show. There was only so much Gres could do or teach the others how to do for themselves. When they came upon a series of fierce, fast-moving ion storms, there was only so much that they could do, and it wasn’t particularly anyone’s fault at that point when they lost helm control and their spacecraft hurtled helplessly into the atmosphere of an M-class planet.

The noise was explosive as they hit the ground, every bone in Assan’s body seeming to rattle as he was jarred by the crash. The piloting console shattered, sending a shower of sparks across the side of his face as, on one side of him, Gres’ combined ops and engineering screen burst into flames.

Assan staggered onto his feet, ignoring the flare of pain in his arm as he reached out, fiercely pulling on Gres’ arms to get him out of the now-twisted chair he’d been sitting in. Gres howled with pain as he was freed, and when he stood he wasn’t putting weight on his right leg.

“The others,” Sek called, handing his phaser to Gres as he said. “We have to get them out of here!”

Gres was already opening the ramp, then he limped behind the brothers as they headed down the hallway, each Vulcan with a phaser tucked into their belt.

Assan heard the little girls’ screams before he saw them, and when the three men worked together to pry open the second bedroom door, it revealed T’Lin, T’Meni, and Alessi curled together on the floor with T’Lin protecting the girls from the flames with the folds of her dress.

“Sek, get them out of here,” Gres ordered above the noise of the flames and groaning metal, and the man didn’t have to be told twice, scooping his daughter up as T’Lin took Alessi into her arms.

They went together towards the ramp as Gres and Assan continued deeper into the ship. Gres’ room was empty. Farun and Solik came staggering together from their bedroom, and Gres ordered them off the shuttle as well.

From the bedroom opposite Solik and Farun’s – _from_ _the one he shared with his wife_ – Hannah called, “Help! Gres, help me!”

“Hannah?” Assan asked, already trying to open the door with his good arm.

“The door’s jammed,” she called back. “I’m trying to pry it loose, but it won’t budge.”

“Maybe if the three of us do it together.” Gres and Assan got into position on either side of the door, and he called, “Ready? Now.”

He saw stars as he used his injured arm, straining to get the warped metal door to open just enough for Hannah to slide out into the hall. He took her hand as the door was wedged open by inches, her feelings of concern intensifying in his own mind as she threw the metal – _was that a bedpost?_ – that she had been using to pry open the door, leaned down to pick up her medic’s case by the door, and then stepped out.

“Go out with the others,” Assan requested.

Hannah looked at him, her expression alone brooking no argument when she asked, “Is everyone else out?”

“Asil and T’Pel are still in here,” Gres supplied, already starting to the next bedroom with a worsening limp.

Hannah nodded, opening the final bedroom door with Assan at her side. When both rooms came up empty, the trio converged on the mess hall.

Seeing their shadows dancing through the flames, Asil called out from the far corner of the room, “We’re here. My mother is unconscious, and I can’t move her alone.”

Beside Assan, Gres swore under his breath, but the three of them had no choice but to head into the flames to get to his sister and mother.


	4. Chapter 4

Hannah knelt at the mess hall doorway, opening her medic kit as she took off her jacket and used a pair of scissors from her kit to slice it roughly into strips. Handing a couple strips apiece to Gres and Assan, she said briefly, “Tie them around your ankles so the flames don’t go up your pantlegs, and let’s hope that we can get out of here before the flames get any higher than our waists, shall we?”

The flames were worse here than they were in the hall because of some of the flammable cooking products they used, but Assan still didn’t want to admit that waist-high flames were soon going to be a possibility. Hannah handed them each another, wider strip of cloth meant to function as masks, shoved what remained of her tattered jacket into her medical kit, and then, as ready as they were ever going to be, they started across the flaming mess hall.

Assan felt more burns licking stripes up his arms, but he ignored them as best he could, trying to sidle past the fires. When they finally reached his mother and sister, he saw the domino-effect that had happened to the shelves of food in their tiny galley, culminating in his mother being trapped between the wall and a tilted shelf. _If she had been much further over, she could’ve been crushed by the shelf_. Assan pushed that thought away, listening to his mother fading in and out of consciousness and trying to convince Asil to leave the shuttle while he, Gres, and Hannah focused on moving the shelf she was trapped by.

“It’s won’t work this way,” Gres grunted, his voice too strained for Assan’s liking. “We’ll have to move the shelves one at a time to get this one to move. “Asil,” for the first time in their six years aboard _Aceso_ , Assan heard Gres speak directly over his only-half-lucid mother. “If you want to leave, Hannah can help you out. If you’re not leaving, help us move these.”

Assan glanced at his sister as he kept working with Gres and Hannah, trying to ease the first shelf upright, and he saw her face flash with a fear that she would never admit to feeling before she took stock of the three of them and her face settled into an expression of grim determination. She moved to his side, lending more strength than he would’ve accredited her with so that the first shelf was righted. Then it was on to the second one.

Then the third one, and as Gres, Asil, and Assan held it clear of the wall, Hannah strained to pull T’Pel out from behind it. 

“I’m getting my mother,” Assan warned Gres and Asil, switching places with Hannah so that he could pull his mother into his arms before the other three let go of the shelf, letting it fall wherever gravity pulled it.

“Everybody _out_ ,” Gres ordered, taking off his mask and putting it on Asil.

_ He hadn’t thought this through _ , Assan realized already, his bad arm starting to give out as he struggled to hold his mother, and they had only just started back through the mess hall. “I need help,” he admitted, and Hannah was there in an instant, helping him ease her so that Assan was carrying her underneath her arms and she had his mother’s feet. 

Ahead of them, Gres and Asil were helping each other through the flames, and when at last they cleared the mess hall and began to make it down the hallway, Assan saw that Gres was nearly falling with every other step. In the doorway of _Aceso_ , Asil froze, though Assan and Hannah couldn’t see why from behind her, and when Gres was jerked to an unexpected stop, he landed wrong on his hurt leg. He fell unconscious, slipping from Asil’s grasp, and Hannah gasped when he rolled limply down the ramp. 

Laughter from outside the ship was Assan’s first clue that something was truly wrong.

“Come out slowly,” an unfamiliar voice ordered Asil. 

Hannah looked at him, eyes wide but already calculating, and he could tell when they both realized the same things. _The others were already out there, and couldn’t be left to whoever these people were, and with the weight of his mother between them there was very little he or Hannah could do without leaving her prone on the ship’s floor._

Later, he would fervently wish they had at least attempted the latter, but in the moment, they only watched Asil descend the ramp, staying where they were. Before they could so much as begin to move out of sight, an alien stepped into their line of sight through the shuttle’s doorway, ordering, “You, too.”

When Hannah looked to him, still debating trying to find some way to bolt, the alien asked in a grotesquely gentle voice, “You wouldn’t want me to have to hurt one of these little ones, would you?”

_ Alessi and T’Meni. _

Assan swallowed, starting down the ramp towards their apparent captors with his wife and mother. One of the beings had Asil’s arm already tightly in his grasp, the other four were on their knees in the sand, with old-fashioned guns pointed at them, and both Alessi and T’Meni were being held with an alien’s arm around their waist, the other hand pressed firmly over their mouths. Sek’s phaser had already been taken from him and was tucked comfortably in an alien’s belt, and as the thought crossed his mind, another alien roughly searched Gres, taking his phaser, too, but otherwise leaving him where he lay as he pointed his own gun at Gres’ head just in case he woke.

“Put her there.” The man who had threatened the girls gestured to the sandy grass beside Gres, and Assan and Hannah obeyed, laying his mother carefully down at Gres’ side. 

Immediately, the leader grabbed Hannah’s arms and another alien took hold of Assan.

“We’re all unarmed,” Hannah promised them.

The man standing over T’Pel and Gres searched T’Pel anyway, and Assan felt Hannah’s concern at the way that T’Pel’s head kept lolling listlessly on the ground. 

“I don’t believe you,” the apparent leader informed her, getting in her face to speak, and Assan watched the man closely as he took his time searching Hannah. He tried to stay calm, so much so that she could feel it through their bond, when he felt panic rising in his wife’s chest. Her instinct was very much to fight against people who touched her – up to and including her shipmates on a bad day – and something told both Hannah and Assan that these men would not hesitate to hurt her if she lashed out at one of them. 

Assan was so focused on calming Hannah that he ignored the man searching him, too – until his phaser was found. 


	5. Chapter 5

“Sir,” said the alien who had searched Assan, a thread of delight in his tone as he held the device up.

“You may keep your prize for now,” the leader said before turning back to Hannah with an accusation in his eyes.

Hannah swore instantly, “I didn’t know he had that.”

It didn’t matter, though, and Assan jerked with rage as the alien backhanded her. “The next person who lies to me,” the alien said, looking around at them all. “Gets that,” he pointed to Assan’s phaser. “To the head. Do I make myself clear?” He turned back to Hannah, pointing at the medical kit that she’d still carried with her as he ordered, “Drop it.” Glaring furiously, she obeyed. He gestured to one of his men. “Open it.”

“It’s only medical equipment,” Hannah explained. “Some of these people are badly h—”

“I didn’t ask you, woman.” He tapped his gun against her shoulder with every word as he said, “Stop. Talking.”

“She’s right, sir,” the man was informed as the medical kit was rifled through. “It’s just medical equipment.”

The leader nodded. “Bring it. You four, get those two off the ground and let’s go. All of you,” he gestured to the four Vulcans kneeling in the sand. “Up. Let’s go.”

As they began to move, Assan counted their captures, noting that they were outnumbered two to one – the little girls couldn’t even fight – all of their weapons were in the hands of the enemy now, and it wasn’t a good sign that whatever species these people were, they’d managed to keep him contained despite his Vulcan-level strength. With two of their people still unconscious, he rolled his shoulders and decided to play along for now. 

Which was astronomically harder than it looked with the leader of this alien team still breathing down Hannah’s neck as he asked, “This medical kit belongs to you?”

“Yes.”

He sighed in disappointment, saying, “I have a bad feeling you’re going to be useful.”

“With devices like these,” one of the others said, “They’ll want to see these people in the town.”

“One thing at a time,” their leader was trying to calculate something now as he continued staring at Hannah in ways that Assan could feel were making her skin crawl. “For now, let’s focus on getting them into our village, hm?”

Watching the man, Assan decided then and there that he was not going to take his eyes off Hannah until this was over. 

That, at least, turned out not to be so difficult. They marched for half a day until they came to a village. For people with functional – if not particularly advanced – guns the villagers lived in log cabins with thatched roofs… and they seemed not at all surprised to see prisoners being marched down their main street.

“Don’t,” Sek murmured to Asil when she tried to appeal to one of the villagers for help.

“Listen to him,” the man holding Asil ordered, pulling her along roughly.

Back in the direction they’d come from, there was an explosion, and Assan’s heart fell as he realized it was _Aceso_ – it had to be – turning to ash. 

He hated to give into concern and even think it, but the thought still crossed his mind… _did that mean they were well and truly stuck here?_

They walked for another meter down what appeared to be the village’s only street before they were taken into a building and deposited unceremoniously into a holding cell. “Leave that with them,” the leader ordered the man holding the medical kit. “And stay here with it.” Turning to Hannah as the kit was placed inside the cell, too, he ordered, “Fix your injured quickly.” To their guard he added, “Bring it to me as soon as she’s done,” and then he left them.

His boss gone, their guard slouched against the wall as Hannah got to work. “Sek, do you know how to use a dermal regenerator?”

“Of course.”

Hannah handed it to him, requesting, “Take care of people’s burns.”

Hannah scanned his mother’s head and neck, determining, “She only has a concussion.”

She loaded a hypospray so that she could awaken her, only for Solik to ask quietly, “Do you really have to wake her up to this?”

Hannah hesitated, and it was their guard who answered, “You don’t have to wake her, but him,” he gestured to Gres. “They’ll want to talk to at your placement trial since he had a phaser.”

“’Placement trial?’” Sek asked, working on T’Lins burned arm as Hannah healed T’Pel’s head but let her continue sleeping.

“Since you were found with technology,” the guard explain shortly. “We have to take you into town for your trial. We found you on our planet; you’re property of my people, we just have to decide what to do with you at a placement trial.”

“People,” Hannah stuck the hypospray in Gres instead of T’Pel before her hands could begin to tremble. She shook them out, glared at the guard. “Are not property.”

“According to your laws, maybe. Ours are different. Now, shut up, all of you, and hurry up.”

* * *

The next morning, they were all fed, and Gres, Sek, Assan, and Hannah were brought out of the cell, forced to march with a dozen guards for another day.

“We’re going to our ‘placement trial?’” Sek asked the guard he’d spoken with the day before.

The guard nodded, Hannah’s kit in his hands. 

“What will happen to the others we’ve left behind?” Sek asked, doing a passable impression of making his tone friendly as he asked what Assan knew was on all their minds. 

None of them had expected to be taken so far away from the rest of their family.

“They will be placed, too,” the guard answered shortly.

“Back at the village without us?”

“That will depend upon your testimony at the trial. Be quiet. For slaves, you people talk far too much.”

Beside Assan, Hannah drew in a deep, but silent, breath, and he _knew_ she was thinking about trying to take on the guards despite their odds. He took her hand, squeezed it until she looked at him.

_ Not without the others _ , he did his best to convey. _Not yet, not if there was a chance they were going to be reunited._


	6. Chapter 6

When they reached the town, it was clear that these people lived better than the ones in the village did. They had brick and mortar buildings here, and their clothing was dyed in a variety of colors. 

Well, the clothing of the natives was. The clothing of anyone who didn’t belong to that particular race was all brown, a uniform, shapeless shift that went down to the mid-thigh and equally loos-fitting trousers. _Slaves,_ he had to suspect.

The four members of Assan’s crew were brought together into what must have been the equivalent of the townhall, then taken to a side room and given the brown outfits that Assan found he’d been expecting. They turned their backs to each other, changing in silence as a guard watched over them. When Assan caught the leech watching his wife change, he glared at him, grinding his teeth, but the guard only grinned at him while running a hand over Assan’s phaser in his belt.

That done, they were taken into a meeting room of sorts where a dozen men sat at a table, watching them expectantly. Two guards slipped into the room with them, one setting Hannah’s medical kit on the table, the other setting their phasers beside it.

The man at the head of the table asked, “One of you is the leader of your crew?”

How they’d come to that conclusion, Assan had no idea, but Gres nodded regardless.

And so, it began.

The guard who’d given them what little information they now possessed hadn’t been exaggerating. It was taken for granted that, as captives of this people, they _belonged_ to them. With that _pesky detail_ out of the way, each of the four were questioned extensively about what they were each capable of. Gres, Sek, and Assan had all decided for themselves to downplay their own abilities – so that they might not be watched so closely – but Hannah didn’t necessarily have that luxury, since these people already knew she was a medic.

The men made notes while the quartet talked, then the leader of the meeting turned to Gres and asked, “Now, what about the rest of your crew?”

“What about them?” Gres countered. “They’re mostly women and children, just… innocent townspeople, all of them.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have a place for them. What can they do? Start with the man, then the older woman.”

At the end of the trial, they were taken to a cell in the townhall. Small mercy that it was, they were left with the one guard who had continued to talk to them, no matter how little, despite his increasing annoyance with them.

“When will we get our assignments?” Sek asked patiently.

“When they decide what they are,” the guard replied as if he was talking to a stupid child.

“Who were those men?” Sek asked. “They were obviously important.”

“The leader of the town, and the village leaders.”

“The town leader is the man in charge over the others?”

“Yes.”

“What… is your name?”

“My name?” Here the guard arched an eyebrow, and Assan was afraid that maybe Sek had pushed too far. The guard smirked. “Is _sir_.”

“What planet are we on… sir?” Sek asked, daring to match the guard’s teasing with an attempt of his own. 

The guard glowered. “You are on the fair planet Celea, on the edge of Borg space, and if you ask me one more question, I will see to it that you are shipped back into space as close to the nearest Borg sphere as we can get you.”

Sek obligingly shut his mouth, and an hour later, four guards came into the room and took him from the cell.

“Where are you taking him?” Assan asked, doing his very best to keep his voice as level as his brother kept his. _They couldn’t just sit back and allow themselves to be separated like this!_

“To his placement,” their guard replied, shutting the door behind Sek. “Back at the village you came from.”

_ Four people could rush five guards _ , Assan decided, but he ran at the cell door too late, as it locked back into place.

“Don’t, my brother,” Sek said sharply. “This way, I can check on the others.”

No one told Sek he was wrong, but there was still a painful knot in Assan’s stomach as he stepped back from the bars and watched his brother walk away surrounded by enemy guards.

* * *

They spent that night in the holding cell, and the next morning the trio that remained were taken by five guards to the biggest house in town. Guided to a side door, they were let in by an elderly alien female with a disapproving gaze and a clucking tongue. Dressed in a slave’s uniform, Assan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen another member of her species before.

“The chancellor has added them to his household,” one of the guards told the woman. “You will see them bathed and dressed, and we will deliver than to the chancellor.”

“Yes, sir,” the woman answered blandly, gesturing for Hannah, Gres, and Assan to follow her.

The guards followed, too, as she took them up two narrow flights of stairs. She stopped at a linen closet filled with uniforms, bandages, towels, and cloths, and found uniforms that more or less fit the three of them.

“This way,” she bid them, squeezing past the guards and leading them back down the stairs. “You’ll bathe in the stream outback.”

In short order, they’d done as they were told – with Gres and Assan making a point of bodily guarding Hannah from the prying eyes of the guards while they bathed – and they were being presented to the man of the house. 

The house was something of an old-fashioned, middle-class estate, Assan noted, like a plot of land from a twisted historical story. He hadn’t seen so much grass since they’d landed on this planet, and he had a feeling that the brook running behind the house was something to be envied on this planet. The comparatively lush setup made more sense when Assan recognized man who owned this place as the man who’d overseen their placement trial – the leader of this area.

_ Their sudden connection to this man’s status was either going to be a glorious stroke of luck or a ridiculous burden as they tried to find their way out of this situation. It was entirely possible that it would be both,  _ he decided before the man started talking, and Assan made himself pay close attention.

“I am Ikneth, the chancellor of the Celean people,” the man announced, self-important and conditionally kind in a way that made Assan’s nerves sing. “And for the most part, your crew have been very lucky. Tomorrow most of your people will be joining you in service to my house, and as long as you behave, I’ll even give you the cottage out back to share so that you can all live together. I think you’ll find me to be a very fair man if you give me a chance. Treat me with the appropriate respect and reverence you would your own leaders, and you’ll find that I will – within reason – give the same dignity to you. Does that sound fair?”

“What about the others who won’t be joining us here?” Gres asked, instead of giving Ikneth’s question an answer.

“There had to be some… compromise with the leader of the village who found your ship; his payment was due him, of course, so some members of your crew have remained at that village, but don’t worry, they, too, will be well taken care of under the same terms that I’ve just outlined for you.”

“And what will we be required to do for you in return?” Hannah asked, her tone flat even as her eyes snapped with restrained anger.


	7. Chapter 7

“An insightful question,” Ikneth said approvingly. “You, as a medical expert, will be working in our hospital – as a nurse for now, unless you prove more useful to us in some other way. Your male counterparts,” he nodded towards Gres and Assan will be confined to the premises unless they travel with me, as they’re now my bodyguards. I’m sure you understand every leader has… dissenters who don’t approve of his actions, and I expect them to guard me from mine from now on.”

Before he could advise her through their bond to stay quiet, Hannah asked Ikneth, “And what makes you think they’ll want to help you?”

“You want to stay together, don’t you?” Ikneth asked. “I can make that completely impossible, and have you sent away – to a different village, or, currently, shot into open space, if I feel like it, should any of you step out of line. For that matter, if I feel like it, I could even have you tortured, though, really, that’s not my style. Either way, I would advise all of you not to step out of line. Do you understand?”

Through their bond, Assan begged Hannah to just stay quiet and nod, to do anything to stay unworthy of this man’s suspicion for now, despite the turmoil he could feel pouring from her in waves. He was pretty sure even Gres could feel her tumultuous thoughts, and he had no bond with her to help him with that.

_ Tomorrow,  _ Assan reminded her. _We’ll be reunited with the others, just hang on until tomorrow._

* * *

They spent the rest of their day with the woman who’d been instructed to help them. She informed them that her name was Runda, her people were the Kazon, and she was the cook and undisputed head of servants at this house.

No one pointed out that, until their arrival, she’d been the only servant here, but she must’ve seen the dubious look on Assan’s and Hannah’s faces, because she informed them coldly, “As early as last week, there were other servants here. A housemaid, a groundskeeper, and a couple of bodyguards.”

“What happened to them?” Gres asked.

“One of Ikneth’s bodyguards convinced the other three to try to overtake Ikneth in his sleep. They tried to kill him and planned to hold the ‘revered leader’s’ body for ransom in exchange for safe passage off this planet. The four of them failed, obviously, and Ikneth had them executed for treason against the state. Now you’re here in their places.”

_ Executed _ . Assan’s green blood chilled at the idea of what their captor was apparently capable of.

“It’s not so bad,” the Kazon woman said. “Ikneth _is_ reasonable as long as you give him the same courtesy, and, honestly, his behavior is no worse than the behavior of the men from my own people.”

“With all due respect,” Hannah said darkly. “I’ve seen records of your people, your sociology, in data recently transmitted to my people, and…” she sighed. “On the whole, we have very different ideas of what ‘decency’ constitutes.”

That was news to Assan – and Gres, too, judging by the look on his face – but he only looked at his wife in surprised silence.

Runda’s eyes darkened with dislike, and she shoved back from the rough-hewn table they’d been sitting at, saying, “I guess you’ll just have to adapt to the way of things here, anyway. It’s not as if you have much of a choice, nursie.”

Assan hated the growing suspicion in the back of his mind that she was right.

* * *

The next afternoon, Gres and Assan were sedately guarding the sitting room door when his mother, Farun, Alessi, and T’Meni were herded into the room and presented to Ikneth just as they had been the previous day. Assan listened closely, careful to keep a blank expression on his face, as Ikneth outlined what he expected _their_ places here to be.

Assan’s mother was to be the new housemaid, Farun was to be a nanny for the people next door – “Don’t forget I’m letting you live with your family as a courtesy that can and will be taken away if I feel it suitable” – and even Alessi and T’Meni were to function as companions to the young children that Farun would be minding.

“For you,” Ikneth pointed to Assan’s mother. “There’s even a room of your own on the top level of the house – the due of the head of slaves in this house. I trust you can keep your people and my old-lady cook under your control?”

T’Pel nodded gracefully, the perfect picture of an unperturbed Vulcan.

“Good. Ikneth glanced over them all, saying, “I think I’m going to like having you lot around – and, don’t worry, you’ll come to like me, too, in your own ways.”

Assan wasn’t betting on it, but he didn’t tell Ikneth that. None of them did. Nor did he point out that the room the man of the house was referencing had been firmly claimed by Runda, and at this point he doubted very much that his mother would want to fight her for it. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be here long enough to care about their accommodations. 

For now, as long as there were no prison bars involved, Assan could make himself bear whatever came their way.

After his family members were dismissed from the sitting room, he didn’t see them for the rest of the day, until he and Gres were dismissed for their evening meal. Even then they spent the time at a table with Runda, and so merely discussed the planet, Celea, it’s people, and their new surroundings with the uncooperative woman.

The closest they got to a real conversation happened when Assan heard his mother and Gres whispering quickly to one another about the locations of those who weren’t with them. Hannah had been taken to the hospital to work for the day, Sek had been taken back to the village near where they’d landed and put to work in fields alongside Solik, T’Meni, and Asil. 

“What are we going to do?” Farun asked Assan quietly, her lips barely moving as she kept one eye on T’Meni and Alessi. Assan shook his head, keeping his own gaze fixed on Runda as he said, “We’ll figure it out, but now isn’t the time. To get everyone back together and out of here, we may have to be patient this time.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter is meant to take place the morning after "Tokens" ends.

_USS Voyager_

“All I’m saying is that if it’s a girl, I think the name Katarina is beautiful,” Quillen declared, placing his lunch plate down at a table with Captain Janeway and her significant others as he talked to Naomi and Icheb. “And, you know… familial sentimentality and all that.”

As Naomi sat down across from her own boyfriends, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that her mother had stopped in her tracks after overhearing that snippet of conversation and was coming towards them with raised eyebrows. “No,” Naomi raised her arm in what she hoped was a soothing manner before noticing the captain’s raised eyebrows as well. She chuckled dryly. “Don’t freak out; we’re just discussing…”

“Baby names?” Commander Chakotay supplied with a smirk that was torn between worry and amusement.

“For the future,” Naomi agreed.

“The far future, I would hope,” Captain Janeway said mildly, pointing out, “You haven’t even graduated from your Starfleet Academy courses, Cadet Wildman.”

“But you can’t wait too long, either.” Quillen presented a counterargument to the captain just because he could. “Otherwise, yeah, you get your ship, but no kids, and then the best substitute you can manage is me as your rebel son.”

Captain Janeway gave him a reproving look, saying in the same mild, affectionate tone, “Which isn’t something to sneeze at, if I’m to one day have a namesake grandchild.”

“In that vein,” Icheb spoke quietly, looking at Seven of Nine as he asked cautiously, “Would you be averse to our naming a future child ‘Anika?’”

Seven froze for a second, then seemed to give the question genuine thought before she said, “No. Though I do not claim the name as my own any longer, I understand what you would be trying to do… in… honoring me, and so… I think I would feel appropriately honored.”

Naomi smiled kindly at Seven, saying lightly, “We’ll keep that in mind, then. For the far future,” she repeated before one of the officers could.

“Not to get too far off-topic,” Ensign Wildman said, sitting when Commander Chakotay gestured that she could do so. “But I notice you all have new jewelry.” Naomi was surprised when she smiled conspiratorially at Icheb and asked, “Everything went according to plan, then?”

“You knew he was planning on giving us these?” Naomi asked, gesturing to the Brunali band that she wore.

She saw the outline of Quillen’s – and Icheb had one now, too – underneath their uniform jackets.

“A mother always knows,” Ensign Wildman said with a teasing smile.

“Mostly because Icheb is the respectful sort who would make sure it wouldn’t cause any issues,” Commander Chakotay pointed out.

“It’s true,” Captain Janeway’s gaze flickered to their hands, noting the rings that had appeared there the day before as well. “Where did the rings come from, though?”

“From me,” Quillen said lightly, asking, “They’re promise rings – the same principle as the Brunali bracelets. I assumed they would be okay?”

“Of course they are.” The captain nodded approvingly.

“What about you?” Commander Chakotay asked, turning to Naomi. “Did you have any surprises for them yesterday?”

“No,” Naomi admitted with a shrug that came far easier than it would’ve last night, only the smallest twinge of guilt remaining at the admission. “But I’ll come up with something later to really surprise them with.”

There was a thread of entertaining approval in Seven’s tone as she replied, “Undoubtedly.”

* * *

_2781:_

Within the week, however, the final part of the year descended upon them, and with it, everyone was swept up with celebrating the winter solstice. Thoughts of what Naomi’s “special” surprise for her boyfriends ought to be was swept away by the usual thoughts of traditional gift-giving, and there were parties to plan centered around the holidays, and as much as Naomi loved that time of year, she felt she barely had time to _breathe_ until the new year was properly under way. And _then_ business as usual meant she was busy enough as it was, between her cadet training, spending time with her boyfriends, mother, and other friends, working as captain’s assistant, _and_ a far-less-official, equally-understood engineering… well, Lieutenant Paris called her his wife’s apprentice, and that was good enough for Naomi.

Unfortunately, thoughts of crafting a surprise for Icheb and Quillen were slowly pushed to the far reaches of Naomi’s mind. Plans for an upcoming away mission – her first real away mission, not as part of a mere supply-gathering crew or as captain’s assistant – soon took their place. It was a simple mission, and she was being allowed to go just to get her feet wet, she knew, but she didn’t care.

On scanners, they had picked up readings of a planet whose outer atmosphere was seemingly comprised of ion storms, but the storms were kept in place by some unnatural means. As explorers, they were naturally curious as to what that means might be, so Captain Janeway had given permission for a trio of lower-ranking crewmembers to take a shuttle and get a closer look. Crewman Jarvis, Crewman Lessing, and Naomi were the lucky trio.

When the day came, Naomi couldn’t help being excited, at least a little.

But the closer they got to the M-class planet, the more her excitement turned to concern as Crewman Lessing’s control over their shuttle became more and more tenuous.

“It’s like we’ve been latched onto by a tractor beam,” Crewman Lessing said in absolute bafflement from the pilot’s chair, watching the viewscreen helplessly as the ion storms in the planet’s atmosphere loomed ever closer. “I’m a good pilot,” and he was; as a former member of the _Equinox_ crew, Lessing had more practical experience than Naomi and Jarvis put together, but that experience was doing nothing for their operations issues now as he said, “But I can’t help a damn thing with no helm control. I need helm control back, cadet!”

He was talking to Naomi, but Crewman Jarvis answered for them both as she said, in the seat across from Naomi, “We’re working on it.”

But they weren’t able to work fast enough.

Naomi heard the captain order an emergency beam-out through their open comm, heard Ensign Kim’s frustrated reply that the ion storm they’d entered was scrambling their patterns… and then the shuttle crashed jarringly through the inner atmosphere of the planet and landed with a magnificent spray of sand and debris on the ground.

 _This had just become a far more complicated mission, hadn’t it?_ Naomi thought, already scrambling out of her seat.


	9. Chapter 9

Across the aisle from Naomi, Crewman Jarvis was also leaving her seat, worming her way around her twisted console before she held up a hand and ordered, “Stay there a second.”

Naomi froze, standing in the aisle as Crewman Jarvis moved to the front of the shuttle to check on the unconscious Crewman Lessing. Crewman Jarvis paused when she reached his side, seeing something from her viewpoint that Naomi couldn’t, before she put two fingers to the juncture of his neck and jaw, checking for a pulse. Her lips thinned, and she shook her head at Naomi, who’s heart dropped into her stomach as Crewman Jarvis tapped her comm badge.

Tapped it once, twice, three times, to no avail. 

Naomi knew their open comm link had been disrupted upon impact, but apparently _all_ communications with _Voyager_ had been severed. 

“Dammit,” Jarvis muttered, looking over the flickering helm control screens before moving back towards Naomi as she asked, “Is anything still functional?”

Naomi reclaimed her seat, and Crewman Jarvis did the same. “Atmospheric controls are still operational,” she offered, making a slight joke to lessen the tension as she said, “We can at least wait for rescue in a temperature-controlled shuttle.” Then she spoke aloud as the thought came to her, “Except we have no guarantee that they can get a lock on our coordinates at all if the ion storm is scrambling transporter sensors.”

“Exactly,” Crewman Jarvis agreed grimly. “We may have to be our own rescue this time, cadet.”

“Can we get the shuttle operational again?” Naomi asked, still mostly thinking aloud as she started a system-wide scan.

“Maybe,” the security crewman offered. “I know it’s really more your area of expertise, but I have a feeling cobbling this thing back together even just long enough to get back to _Voyager_ would take us days.”

_ She was right _ , Naomi said with a nod as she watched the systems analysis results blink into view one after another. “At least a week,” she agreed. “But we have rations aboard, in the emergency packs on the back wall; we can make it work. Besides, we both know _Voyager_ will be working to get a useable lock on our transporter patterns, so that’s not nothing.”

“So, we sit tight, try to fix things on our end as _Voyager_ does the same on theirs, while also hoping that we’re not sitting ducks for the natives that we were never supposed to encounter,” Crewman Jarvis summarized. 

“They showed signs of being a warp-capable species,” Naomi reminded her. “Just because contact wasn’t in the mission plan doesn’t mean it’s against the rules.”

“Yes, but those readings were highly unusual. These people may have been warp-capable once upon a time, but from our readings we were unable to ascertain if they are now, so direct contact with them was deemed unadvisable, and we will be sticking to that decision. Agreed?”

It wasn’t exactly a question, judging by Crewman Jarvis’ tone and expression, but Naomi nodded anyway.

“Good.” Crewman Jarvis stood, ordering, “Stay here, monitor the systems analysis until it finishes, then come give me the results. I’m going to check the exterior of the shuttle, access the visible damage and make sure nothing is on fire.”

“Aye, sir,” Naomi replied, and was happily surprised when the shuttle ramp did its job and lowered when Crewman Jarvis entered the command sequence into the helm control console.

Crewman Jarvis had barely stepped outside the shuttle, out of Naomi’s sight, before she heard unfamiliar voices ordering her crewmate to stop, drop her phaser, and surrender. Naomi was out of her seat in an instant, her own phaser in her hand just as quickly as she stepped to the side of the exit ramp, staying well out of sight of anyone outside as she waited to see what would happen next.

Crewman Jarvis began to try and explain, “My shuttle crashed. We mean you no harm; we just want to return to our ship.”

“That won’t be possible,” someone informed her. “Do as you’re told willingly, or we will make you.”

“Don’t come any closer,” Crewman Jarvis warned, taking a half-step back inside the shuttle as she whipped her phaser out of her belt.

The unknown people outside opened fire, a smattering of old-fashioned bullets flying into Jarvis and knocking her backwards even as she tried to move to cover. When Naomi glanced down at Jarvis, the crewman’s eyes were already glazed over and unseeing.

“What a waste of a pretty young thing,” a man bemoaned from outside the shuttle.

“Sir,” another one of the men outside said. “The girl said ‘we;’ there’s more in there.”

Naomi stopped breathing when she heard the first boot hit the shuttle ramp as they started to board the vessel. She had heard at least five different voices out there, at least some of them were armed and unafraid to fire, and she would now be alone in trying to fight them off. 

Darting to the front of the shuttle by helm control, Naomi had the presence of mind to grab Crewman Lessing’s flask of water as she scrambled over his corpse and out of the shuttle through the shattered viewscreen. _She would have to come back to the shuttle later and try to repair it once those beings were gone_ , she decided, dragging air into her lungs as she started to run in the opposite direction through the sand. 

* * *

Two days later, hiding out in a shallow cave where she could just barely see the alien beings continuing to pick apart _Voyager_ ’s shuttle, Naomi had deduced a few things. 

One: these people clearly didn’t have handheld scanners; she’d not moved from her hideout in over thirty-six hours, but no one had noted her presence, either.

Two: those same beings were literally taking away her ability to repair the shuttle piece by piece, picking it apart like the scavengers that she half-suspected they were.

Three: she was running out of water, no matter how carefully she had rationed it… while she was in the middle of what appeared to be a desert.


	10. Chapter 10

Everything that could possibly be relevant, she relayed to Quillen and Icheb through their now-faint telepathic bond. Just because their comm system was down didn’t mean that her link to her boyfriends was – at least not entirely. They didn’t have a Vulcan mating bond; their bond only had short-range capabilities, but with all three of them almost always aboard _Voyager_ , that had never been a problem. Now, though, with her on the planet’s surface, and _Voyager_ hovering well above her in space, she could feel the strain on the bond. They could hear her thoughts their own minds if she concentrated on projecting those thoughts to them, and they could do the same for her, but not much beyond that. For now, it was enough, but, frankly, she was afraid to move out from underneath _Voyager_ , lest the link break entirely.

Alone in a cave, watching her way home continuously being dismantled – they even kept guards posted around it overnight – Naomi realized something about herself for the first time. She had never been alone – not once, not really, not in her whole life. Of course she’d been in rooms alone, but there had always been someone one tap away on the other end of her comm badge, if not in the other room.

Not now.

Now she clung to her tremulous telepathic bond, watching the shuttle be dismantled as she worked on alternate ways to get back to her ship.

By the third day, Naomi was beginning to think that maybe she’d spread the water a little too thin – not that it mattered now that the flask was empty anyway. She hadn’t drunk anything for twelve hours, or eaten since before she’d left _Voyager_ , and the metabolism that had fueled her rapid growth into adulthood was punishing her now. She felt faint and was pretty sure the only thing keeping her awake was sheer determination.

On one hand, she _knew_ Icheb and Quillen would panic if they realized her consciousness had blinked out for longer than one of the catnaps that she’d been allowing herself. On the other hand, she was trying, in a desperate, improbable attempt at rescuing herself, to make a handheld transporter out of parts from her tricorder and phaser, and if she could get it to work, this could all be over.

But one could not live on determination alone, and Naomi passed out with phaser parts still clenched in her hands.

* * *

Naomi woke up in an unfamiliar room, very much indoors and not in her cave. That much she registered while blinking her eyes, trying to kick her mind back into gear before she’d really moved. The hair on her arms prickled as she became aware of another presence in the room without really seeing the person. Drawing in a deep, silent breath, she sprang from the bed and ran for the door all in one twist of movement, praying that she could use the element of surprise to at least get past him before he gave chase.

No such luck. Her captor was tall and fast, his arms thick as they wrapped around her waist and swung her back into the room while he leaned his weight against the bedroom door to close the two of them in alone. She tried to charge past him again, and he caught her again, using the same movement to swing her further back into the room.

“Stop it!” he ordered.

So, she stopped charging him, swinging around to grab a coat-stand from the corner and brandish it at him instead. _It was the closest thing to her spear that she saw, and in this pinch, it would have to do_.

But when Naomi finally stopped long enough to get a good look at her captor, he gave her pause. Because, _sure, it seemed pretty par for the course of this mission that her captor would be the first of her own kind that she’d ever seen in person_. 

“Put that down,” he ordered sharply. “The only thing I have on me to defend myself with is a electric prod, and you don’t want me to have to use that, do you?”

“Where am I?” Naomi ordered, not about to lower her improvised weapon.

“An M-class planet in the Delta Quadrant called Celea. More specifically, you’re in the guest bedroom of this state’s chancellor.” He rushed to explain before asking, curious and cautious, “You were on that shuttle that crashed three days ago, weren’t you? I head it had a Federation insignia on it.”

“So?” Naomi asked, her tone hard even as she tried to figure him out. She knew he was Ktarian, and he knew what the Federation was, but he was also _here_. _Why?_

He answered her question without her having to ask it as he said in another rush, “My crew came to the Delta Quadrant looking for a Federation vessel that had been lost out here. _Voyager_? Have you heard of it?”

“Everyone’s heard of _Voyager_ by now. That’s ships infamous out here.”

An answer that wasn’t an answer, and he knew it as well as she did. “What’s your name?” he asked, his face a little _too_ open for her liking. “And why is someone in the Delta Quadrant wearing a _cadet_ ’s uniform?”

Naomi pressed her lips together and studied him, debating the wisdom of trying to clot him in the head with the coat rack and make another break for it.

“Don’t,” he said again, reading her expression. “Look, nobody knows your Starfleet yet, because you were wearing a cadet’s uniform, and they didn’t know what that was. So that I know, my crew’s the only other brush with Starfleet that the Celeans have had, and I don’t intend to tell on you as long as I get some answers myself.”

“You first,” Naomi demanded, her throat tightening and her heart dropping _hard_ into her stomach as she began to realize why she thought this man looked so familiar to her. Her mother kept a holo-image of him at her bedside. “What’s your name?”

He sighed, still sizing her up just as much as she was him as he answered, “Greskrendtregk Wildman. Now, what’s yours?”

Naomi swallowed, once, twice, desperately trying not to be sick even as she hoped that he would attribute her sudden trembling to her continued fatigue. “Naomi,” she said faintly, making a split-second decision that she wasn’t even sure made sense as anything more than a byproduct of her sudden fear. “Naomi Janeway.”

She heard the coat rack fall from her hands even though she didn’t remember letting go of it, only to realize belatedly that she, too, was crumpling to the floor even as the alias left her mouth. As the world went black again, her father – _her father!_ – caught her before she could hit the floor.


	11. Chapter 11

Naomi woke up a few minutes later, back in the bed with the blankets drawn carefully up around her. This time instead of Greskrendtregk Wildman – _ye gods, what was she supposed to do with that information? What had she_ already _done in the face of it?_ – guarding her door, there was a Vulcan woman sitting on the edge of her bed with a glass of water in her hands.

“Are you thirsty?” the woman asked softly. Naomi nodded, and drank greedily from the cup she was handed. “Slowly now, or you’ll be sick,” she cautioned with a gentle smile.

_ Her father and a smiling Vulcan in the same day? What sort of fever dream was she having? _

“I am T’Pel,” the Vulcan woman offered in the same patient, quiet tone. “Wife of Tuvok. You told my friend that you’re the daughter of Captain Kathryn Janeway?”

Naomi nodded, and the gesture did nothing to make her spinning head feel any better. _Her father… and now this smiling Vulcan was Commander Tuvok’s wife? And they were both right here, with_ Voyager _just above them all, but unreachable._

Still, a lingering hesitancy that might’ve been just plain lunacy setting in at this point kept Naomi from righting the lie she’d told. Instead, she asked T’Pel, “Why am I here? Why are _we_ here? …Your friend said that you were looking for _Voyager_ , but you’re stationary and evidently settled into life on a planet.”

“We were captured,” the woman explained gently, taking the now-empty glass from Naomi’s hands, and offering her a plate of food from the bedside table. “As you were. As everyone is if they are not killed when their vessels encounter the ion storms and are pulled into this planet’s atmosphere.”

“There were two other members of my crew,” Naomi said suddenly, the bite of egg she had eaten turning to a stone in her stomach. “They died. One in the crash, one in a firefight with the people who are currently picking apart our shuttle.”

“I am… sorry for your losses,” T’Pel said. “We were lucky; none of my crew died.”

“How may of you are there?”

“Four are in a village a day’s walk from here; we haven’t seen them since we ‘settled’ here, as you say. There are seven of us here, but two are children.”

“Do you have a way out? Access to a shuttle, or even communication devices, anything?”

T’Pel sighed. “No transportation, no, and before you ask, there’s no transporters here. I _might_ have access by proxy to a communications device, but it only works within the planet.”

“Because the ion storm scrambles everything that tries to go into space.”

“Yes.”

Naomi put her head in her hands for a second before pulling her hands down the length of her face, feeling at least a little better physically now that she’d drank and had a little food in her. She tried to think like an officer, like a member of the command team, like a _Janeway_ , asking, “How long have you been here?”

That gave T’Pel pause before she said, “Nearly seven months. The chancellor, Ikneth, trusts us somewhat now. That’s why he’s left us alone unguarded today; he trusts Gres and I to stay while my son accompanies him to a meeting in a nearby village. I was using the time to search for anything that could help us on the grounds until Gres asked me to bring you food and water.”

“You should be using your time to look for a way out,” Naomi said sharply. “I’m fine now.”

“No,” T’Pel answered, simple, and _far_ too shrewd. “I want to hear news from your ship. I want to know how _Kathryn Janeway_ had a child, and it wasn’t mentioned to me in the letter from my husband.”

“Who on earth understands the mind of a Tuvok?” Naomi joked carefully.

T’Pel raised her eyebrows, not taking the bait as she pointed out, “Me. I’ve spent more time in his mind the past week than I have in over a decade, but before _Voyager_ was lost, our mental bond was strong. I understand Tuvok; I know him, and I know that if one of our dearest friends had given birth, he would’ve told me. That’s why what I really want to know is why—”

Greskrendtregk burst into the room, inadvertently saving Naomi again as he said, “Ikneth’s home. He wants to talk to you, Cadet Janeway.”

“Who’s Ikneth?” Naomi asked as T’Pel took the plate and cup and disappeared down the hall.

“The chancellor,” Greskrendtregk explained shortly. “Tell him as little as you possibly can but make yourself sound valuable. You’ve already gotten his interest with the way you were apparently repairing your phaser when you passed out; tell him about the things like that you can do.”

Naomi didn’t correct him on what her intent had been with the phaser and tricorder; she didn’t have time to do so before a gray alien blew importantly into the room, another dark-skinned Vulcan at his back. The Vulcan looked so like a young Tuvok that she blinked in surprise before her gaze switched warily towards the chancellor.

“How are you?” the chancellor asked curiously.

“Fine,” Naomi replied, sitting up straight in the bed as she returned innocently, “How are you?”

“I am doing marvelously.” The chancellor, Ikneth, smiled at her, revealing, “I have a feeling you are just what I’ve been looking for.”

“How?” she asked, attempting to make herself come off as younger than she seemed to be – not always a difficult task when she had only lived for nine years.

“The way you were attempting to fix your devices – where you come from, are you a… repairwoman?”

Naomi nodded eagerly, even giving him a timid smile for effect. “I love doing that sort of stuff.”

“Where did you learn ‘that sort of stuff?’” Ikneth asked dubiously.

“From my aunt, mostly, and her extended family.”

“Your aunt?” Ikneth repeated, raising his eyebrows.

Naomi nodded again. “They helped raise me, because my dad abandoned us, and my mom had to work all the time. Or,” here she effected a deep sadness. “She chose to work so much so she didn’t have to think about my dad.”

Naomi could _feel_ Gres’ presence on the other side of the doorway, but some perverse part of herself chose to believe that she didn’t care if her lie hurt him so long as it helped her gain Ikneth’s trust.


	12. Chapter 12

“And your family – do they live nearby? Will they be looking for you?”

Naomi shook her head, “They’re angry with me because I won’t marry the man they chose to be my husband.”

“If that’s why you fled your family, why were there other people in your shuttle with you?” he asked warily.

“My best friend and the man I love,” she supplied automatically, using fodder from an old holoprogram she’d entered once. _But in every lie, it was best to have a grain of truth, too._ Tears gathered too easily in her eyes as she said, “I tried to get helm control back to him in time, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it, and he died, and it’s my fault. I’m so sorry, Noah,” she whispered, letting herself begin to cry in earnest.

“Your love is a little too old for you, isn’t he?” Ikneth asked, turning over every stone despite her tears.

“That’s why my family didn’t like him!” Naomi cried out through her tears.

Ikneth’s expression turned stony as he commanded threateningly, “Don’t raise your voice at me. You see those electric sticks my men have? They’re at my disposal whenever I see a need to use them, do you understand?”

“I’m sorry,” Naomi replied in an appropriately small voice.

“Never mind that, you’ll learn. You’ll have to; I won’t be so understanding if you step out of line again.” He leaned closer to her as he sat where T’Pel had, putting a hand on her leg as he gave her an eerily kind smile. “But it’s clear you’ve been through a lot, and I do want to keep you safe. I think I have a way to do that.”

“How?” Naomi asked innocently.

“I’m an important man on this planet, and my people and I need someone who can do the repair work that you seem to be capable of. If you prove up to the task, you can even live right here in this room, and go into town every day to a repair station to work. You do that for me, and I will make sure that you never see your family again. Is that acceptable to you?”

_ “I will make sure that you never see your family again.”  _ His smile was kind, his eyes filled with a confidence that he could deliver on that promise, and Naomi struggled to keep her expression in line with her lie, to hide how her stomach had started roiling at the idea. 

She was tempted to push him, to ask in her same stupid tone what would happen if she missed her mother too much and decided she wanted to go home, but she had a feeling that T’Pel and Greskrendtregk were safer sources of information for that conversation. Instead, she nodded at Ikneth, saying only, “Yes.”

“Very good.” He patted her leg again and stood from the bed. “I’m glad we could do this the easy way. Let’s keep it that way, shall we? Rest today; tomorrow, you’ll go into town with our house nurse and guards who will keep you safe, show you around, and make sure you can do the work you’ve promised. Sleep well, little one.”

He gestured for the young Vulcan man to stay where he was, and Naomi glimpsed Greskrendtregk falling into line in front of the chancellor instead as the man turned into a different room off the hall.

His face still as blank as ever, the Vulcan quietly shut the bedroom door, went back to his corner, and turned to look at her. They watched each other silently, and after a moment Naomi asked dryly, “Are you ever gonna blink? ‘Cause, honestly, it’s starting to freak me out a little bit.”

The Vulcan chuckled, a smile flickering across his face as he blinked rapidly a few times at her. “I am Assan,” he offered quietly, still mindful of the chancellor down the hall as his posture relaxed a little.

“Third and final son of Tuvok,” Naomi recalled.

Now when Assan blinked, it was in surprise. “You know my father?”

Naomi nodded. “I’m from _Voyager_. I’ve spent the past few Father’s Days with your father; some years, he avoids talking about his family, some years it’s all he can talk about. You, for example, I know he worries about more than the others; he’s ‘concerned’ you’ll face more prejudice than your better-adjusted siblings for your mixed blood, and he thinks we would make good friends.”

“Do you think we would make good friends…?”

“Naomi,” she answered.

“Wildman,” he said with another smile, as she added, “Janeway.”

“What?” they both asked at the same time.

“You are not Naomi Wildman?” Assan asked in confusion.

“How do you even know that name?”

“I’ve known Gres for a decade, and he’s known he has a daughter since ’74; it’s come up in conversation.”

“’74?” Then she remembered, throwing up her hands and feeling utterly stupid. “The letters!”

“Your mother told him you exist, of course,” Assan said with a nod.

“Of course. He and T’Pel already knew who I am, and let me lie anyway?”

“Apparently?”

“Why would they do that?”

Assan considered that before answering, “Too many people are willing to trample others here to make themselves look better. They were probably trying to… ‘feel you out’ as much as you were them.”

“So, what do we do now?” Naomi asked, allowing herself to draw her hands over her face again.

“Now, you rest. Tomorrow, if you’re being given access to the repair station, maybe there will be something there you see that can help us contact _Voyager_. I assume they’re nearby?”

“Right above us – give or take.”

“With that blasted ion storm layer still blocking them from us,” Assan muttered. “I don’t suppose you have any other communications equipment with you, do you?”

Naomi opened her mouth to tell him about her telepathic link with Quillen and Icheb, and then she froze, realizing, but also wondering how it had taken her so long to realize. Her fears about leaving the crash site had been valid; the link with her boyfriends was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

_ USS Voyager _

“I am trying damnably hard to be a good officer right now,” Samantha Wildman stood across from Kathryn at her ready room desk, her voice shaking despite the professional bearing she was trying to project. “But it has been three days into a twenty-four hour mission, we have lost comms, we can’t get a solid lock on any coordinates, not even to beam out _bodies_ , and I don’t think you quite grasp what the differences in Naomi’s physiology mean right now.”

“I assume,” Kathryn said, trying not to show how exhausted – physically, mentally, and emotionally – she, too, was. “That her accelerated growth rate means an accelerated metabolism, means she has to eat more often than full-blooded humans?”

“Means as of today her body has gone into starvation mode, means she can go about eighteen hours without water, means that in another week she will starve to death.”

Samantha Wildman was cocking an attitude with her that Kathryn hadn’t even known her head of xenobiology to be capable of, but she wasn’t about to blame her. Correct her, maybe, but not blame her. 

Before she could do so, the chime to her ready room sounded, and she called, “Come in.” Tuvok came in, proceeded by Icheb and Quillen, who both looked more unsettled than they had in the whole of the past three days, and that was saying something. “Yes, what is it?” she asked, fully anticipating that Naomi had conveyed something to the boys that they wanted her to know.

Instead, Quillen announced, “We lost our link to Naomi.”

“What do you mean ‘lost it?’” Kathryn asked.

“I mean it’s not there anymore, and not like she just fell asleep. It’s like she… moved completely out of range.”

“So, we have no form of contact with her at all now?” Ensign Wildman asked sharply, drawing in a slow breath.

“Ensign,” Kathryn said softly, trying to reign her in as gently as she could, before the mother could unleash on boys whose fault this was not. “Maybe she simply moved out of range to try and find food, like you were talking about.”

“Not unless she can make it to a populated area,” Icheb said, shaking his head. “That planet is mostly desert except for in places where food is actively cultivated.”

“And how far is she from one of those areas?” Kathryn asked.

“She’s six hours, normal walking speed, from what appears to be the area’s population hub.”

“Then maybe that’s all there is to this,” Kathryn said practically, still watching Ensign Wildman out of the corner of her eye.

“Which would present a whole other host of problems,” Quillen pointed out. “If she starts encountering locals. We don’t know if these people are safe to approach or not.”

“The locals, precisely, are not,” Tuvok spoke up, and Kathryn turned to look at him in surprise, wondering where he’d gotten that information. “But the ion storm that surrounds the planet is fabricated, a trap meant to make people crash there, and there are others stranded on this planet who are willing and eager to help our cadet.”

“How do you know that?” Kathryn questioned, watching discomfort flicker across her oldest friend’s face. She _knew_ that look, and it made her stomach knot even more. He was hiding something from her. She waved a hand at Quillen, Icheb, and Ensign Wildman, saying, “You’re dismissed,” and though none of them were happy about it, they filed out. Rounding her desk, she sat on the edge of it, arms crossed and staring at Tuvok with a severe frown that he may or may not have deserved, depending on what he said next. “If you have been hiding something relevant from me, I will put you in the _brig_.”

“Not relevant, precisely,” Tuvok replied. “But I didn’t know how to explain it to you without… going back to the beginning of our journey in the Delta Quadrant, and I wasn’t prepared to do that unless it proved necessary.”

“I take it it’s necessary now?”

“For peace of mind, if nothing else,” Tuvok allowed.

Kathryn waved a hand, asking, “What is it, then?”

“When we were brought to the Delta Quadrant,” Tuvok answered, drawing in a breath. “My bond with my wife was… stretched to its limit, like Naomi Wildman’s has been with Quillen and Icheb these past three days.”

“Fascinating, Tuvok,” she said dryly, and under other circumstances, it really would’ve been, but now was not the time for a scientific conversation.

He arched an eyebrow at her, taking her impatience as his cue to get to the point. “You may be interested to know that over the past week, my bond with my wife has grown noticeably stronger, the closer we got to this planet. It’s returned nearly to normal, now.”

Kathryn stood upright, demanding, “Meaning what?”

“Meaning I’ve been in communication with her. She and, according to her, my family are on the surface.”

“Why didn’t you _say something_ sooner!”

“Because the information she’s been giving me isn’t… hopeful. The people who crash on the planet are taken as slaves, used for their knowledge to cultivate technology and medicine, or for their ability to grow crops and build buildings, or as household staff if nothing else. The locals live in absolute terror of the Borg; like the Brunali, they’ve opted to live without technology that would attract the Borg, even though they were once a warp-capable species. Now, they use only technology the Borg have already encountered, and they only allow their ‘slaves’ to work on such things, without passing their knowledge on, so that the people – the Celeans – don’t get to curious and expand enough on their own to get the Borgs’ attention again. Just now, my wife was relaying to me that Naomi Wildman was brought, unconscious, to the house of the chancellor where my wife lives and works. Because she was found, they believe, trying to make repairs to her phaser, the chancellor has taken a great interest in her, as the technology the Celeans have is falling apart and in dire need of a repairman. They’ll put her to work in that manner until we can get to her.”

“So, she’s alive, and in T’Pel’s hands?” 

Tuvok nodded.


	14. Chapter 14

Kathryn was so relieved – feeling so many things, in fact – that she had to blink back the tears in her eyes. “And the others?”

“’Others,’ captain?”

“Your family, Tuvok?” she said on a watery chuckle. “Are they well? Are there others with them? How many do we know would be on our side if we can somehow manage to get to the planet’s surface?”

“There are eleven people from my wife’s original crew. My two eldest sons, my daughter, and one of my daughters-in-law are being kept in a village a day’s walk from my wife and the others. The other seven, two of which are young girls, are being kept in the more populated center of the area.

“Captain, I believe it would help ease your mind to know that, outside of my ten family members in that crew, the eleventh member is Mr. Wildman. If we cannot currently watch over Cadet Wildman, I would like to believe that her father is.”

Kathryn sat back down on the edge of her desk before she fell down. _How exactly was she supposed to tell Ensign Wildman_ that _? How terribly wrong of her was it to keep the information from the other woman?_ She pushed the thought away, focusing on the tactical information she’d been given instead. “Okay, we’re dealing with two spots now, not just one. Is it possible that the ion storm weakens somewhere, _anywhere_ , where we can get a message to T’Pel that if they can go to certain coordinates, we might be able to beam them out?”

“The town is swarming with guards, according to my wife; they can’t move without being seen.”

“Fine,” she stood, making her way onto the bridge with Tuvok at her heels. “But what about the village. Getting four out is better than none right now.”

“Four?” Chakotay asked, standing from his chair.

“I’ll fill you in later. Right now, Ensign Wildman,” she turned to the science console, putting her hand on the back of Ensign Wildman’s chair as Tuvok returned to his station and Chakotay approached her with questions still in his eyes. “Run a loose, planetwide search for Commander Tuvok’s DNA, then Naomi’s; send the results to Ensign Kim. Harry, do your best to get a lock on anyone who comes up.”

“Aye, captain,” the ensigns replied, and Kathryn watched Ensign Wildman’s screen as one, two, three, four, five, six spots pinged for a search of Tuvok’s DNA. 

“Who are they?” Commander Chakotay asked softly, glancing at Tuvok.

“One match reads as a granddaughter; the others are his children.”

Kathryn froze, straightened to her full height, and asked Ensign Kim, “Can you get a lock on any of them?”

“Maybe the three in the more rural area. The farther we get from the more populated area, the weaker the ion storm’s effect on our systems.”

“Noted. Keep that lock on them. Samantha, isolate the grand-daughter’s DNA, run it, see if her mother’s there.”

She, too, popped up on the screen, and was located by Harry, who said, “I’ve got a lock on her, too, but they’re faulty, captain.”

“Keep it for another minute. Samantha, I know it’s a broader shot, but run a scan for any other Vulcans.”

“There are two more at the population center.” She paused, and with her fingers barely brushing the ensign’s shoulder, Kathryn could tell she was shaky again as she said, “One of them is the other half of the DNA strands for five of them.”

“That leaves two more to find,” Kathryn murmured to herself as Ensign Wildman spun in her chair to look at Tuvok, saying carefully, “We found your wife?”

The magnanimity of that was not lost on either Ensign Wildman or Tuvok as he met her gaze, saying mildly, “It would appear so.”

“And your children?”

“And my daughter-in-law and grand-daughter,” Tuvok added, drawing in another silent breath. He stepped away from his console, and Chakotay gave him the space to join them at Ensign Wildman’s station as he said, “There’s one human on the crew, another relative of mine.”

“Run another wide-sweeping scan for human DNA, ensign,” Kathryn ordered, putting her free hand on Tuvok’s shoulder.

Ensign Wildman was already doing it. “There are four of them, three of which are in the city center.”

“That is a hurtle to conquer in a moment,” Tuvok said before Kathryn could speak. “There is a separate scan you were ordered to run but haven’t yet.” Ensign Wildman’s hands paused over her screens, and wild hope and painful fear swirled together in her eyes as she looked up at Tuvok. “Do it,” he requested calmly as Kathryn moved her hand from the back of the ensign’s chair to her shoulder, squeezing gently.

Chakotay, too, reached to put a comforting hand on the ensign’s other shoulder, and though Kathryn knew this scan wasn’t taking any longer than the others, it seemed to drag on anyway. Two dots appeared on their screen, one Naomi’s, the other a paternal match for her. 

Ensign Wildman cried out, her hands flying to cover her mouth before she said with tears gathering in her eyes, “I’m sorry, captain, I—”

“Don’t be,” Kathryn said kindly. “This is the first good news we’ve had in days.”

“I can’t get a lock on either of them,” Ensign Kim said in obvious frustration. “They’re both in the more protected center.” He looked at Ensign Wildman, asking, “Are there others?”

“No, Tuvok answered for her.

“But eleven is nothing to sneeze at,” Kathryn reminded him. “Those eleven are our people on the ground.”

“Then how do we get them aboard _Voyager_?” Chakotay asked. 

“I can try to beam up the four from the rural area now,” Harry pointed out. “Then at least we know they’re safe.”

“We have no way of communicating with them in the way we do my wife,” Tuvok said logically, ignoring the curious looks of the others on the bridge.

Kathryn smiled at Harry, ordering, “Do it, Mr. Kim. Beam them directly to the bridge.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Aye, captain,” Harry replied with a little grin, already entering the necessary commands as Kathryn and Tuvok stepped away from the science console.

“When,” she asked under her breath. “Were you going to tell me that T’Pel had a baby while we were away?”

“I wasn’t going to; I saw how Ensign Wildman’s… situation worried you, and weighed on you, and I didn’t want that. Neither did my wife. She asked me to keep the information to myself in the letter I received from her. How could I not honor that one wish?”

Kathryn was displeased, but if the request had come from T’Pel, it at least made more sense. Before she could respond, though, four baffled Vulcans were energized onto her bridge.

Sek was the first to react, gasping, “Father!” 

For a moment, Tuvok’s strait-laced eldest gave himself over to his mother’s genes, and only barely stopped himself from hugging his father. Tuvok saw the aborted gesture for what it was, though, and a look passed over the face of Kathryn’s council that she couldn’t translate; he moved the rest of the way, embracing – and shocking – his son.

“Sek, my son,” Tuvok murmured, quietly enough that only Kathryn, standing nearest, could hear over the applause that had started on the bridge. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you, Father.”

“Ready room,” Kathryn requested jovially. “All five of you.” She led the way to the more private space, letting the door slide closed behind them before she turned to Sek, opening her arms in hopes of a hug as Tuvok hugged Solik, and then Asil. 

“Aunt Kathryn,” Sek said, relief in every line of his expression as he hugged her. So did Solik and Asil – if more for her sake than theirs, perhaps – and Sek introduced her to T’Lin, who nodded with a very Vulcan sense of decorum before they got down to business. “We haven’t seen the others in months,” Sek said. “Not my mother, my brother… our daughter. No one.”

“We know,” Kathryn informed them.

Tuvok supplied, “I’ve been in renewed contact with my wife; she tells us the situation is more… difficult in the population center.”

“They simply call it ‘town’ on Celea,” Asil informed them.

“Well, their town,” Kathryn said as she led them all to sit on the couch. “Is directly underneath a stronger part of the ion storm surrounding the planet; I’m hesitant to send anyone else down, and we don’t currently have a way to beam them up. The only reason you’re here is because there was a weak point in the ion storm over your village that our transporters could work around.”

“What do you mean ‘send anyone _else_ down?’” Solik asked.

“An away team was caught in the ion storm. Two crewmembers died, the third, Naomi Wildman, is still trapped down there.”

“Your mother says at least she is with her and with Cadet Wildman’s father,” Tuvok added.

“That’s good,” T’Lin said.

Sek leaned forward in his seat, asking, “How can we help you get them out, then?”

* * *

_ Celea _

That night, Naomi was allowed to sleep undisturbed in the same room, though the Vulcan, Assan, stayed in the room, too, sleeping slouched in a very un-Vulcan manner in the corner of the room.

The next morning, she awoke to a medical tricorder in her face, and automatically batted it away. “Please don’t,” a female human about her own maturation requested. “Otherwise, it’ll be your job to fix it.”

“What are you doing?” Naomi asked sharply, sitting up while the unsolicited scan continued.

“Ikneth ordered me to make sure you were in good health. After your little display of overly abundant innocence last night, he was worried you might be a bit…soft.” The blonde smiled at her in amusement.

“Really?” Naomi asked, trading smirks with her and feeling an instant comradery with this girl. _She had never met a human female her own age before now._ “I was going for a young, absent-minded professor type.”

“Who had fallen in love with an older man?” the woman asked, putting away most of her medical equipment.

Naomi shrugged. “I said the first thing that came to mind. It wasn’t hard.”

The blonde eyed her, observing, “Only because you’re a good liar, Naomi Janeway.”

Naomi forced herself not to wince, admitting, “Not usually, but in a pinch, I can make it work.”

“That you did. And it might work in your favor, too.” She frowned at Naomi, warning, “Ikneth was in here a minute ago, as I began my scans, and Assan will tell me I’m being paranoid, but I don’t like the way he was looking at you. Don’t let your guard down around Ikneth; you may be getting exceptionally cushy accommodations around here, but…” she licked her lips, glancing away, and woman-to-woman, Naomi suddenly understood what she was getting at. _Those accommodations might be coming with a price she wasn’t willing to pay._

“I understand,” Naomi said gravely.

“There’s something else,” the blonde said, holding up the medical tricorder she’d left out. She handed it to Naomi, asking, “Did you know about this?” It took Naomi a long second to understand what the readings meant, but when she did, she paled so suddenly that her nurse put a startled hand between her shoulder blades in case she fell backwards. “I take that as a ‘no.’”

Naomi shook her head, clenching her teeth and dipping into the reserves of her mental fortitude as she admitted, “No, I had no idea.”

“Well, now that you do,” the other woman asked, watching her carefully. “What do you think you’re going to do about it?”

“That doesn’t change,” Naomi informed her, feeling a numb sort of steadiness flow throughout her whole body. “I’m going to do whatever the hell it takes to get off this planet and back to my ship, back to my people.”

* * *

Naomi and the nurse, Ensign Hannah Whitley, were walked to their respective jobs by the expected guards, and, unexpectedly, by Ikneth himself. 

_ Ensign Whitley had been right _ , Naomi observed as they walked, a sickening knot tying itself together in the pit of her stomach. For whatever reason, she intrigued Ikneth; she could tell by how he was watching her, talking exclusively to her as they stopped first at the hospital to drop off Ensign Whitley. _She could use that to get better intel, and maybe a faster way back to_ Voyager, Naomi knew, no matter how much the idea made her ill.

Once they had left Ensign Whitley behind, Naomi engaged Ikneth more animatedly in conversation, and as he walked close to her, she allowed her hand to brush his. He smiled, reminding her of a wolf, and took her hand in his.


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, Naomi awoke in Ikneth’s bed, having spent the previous day showing off for him in his repair shop, and that night doing things that she desperately wanted to forget. But he had talked, telling her a startling amount of useful information in between stories of his first wife – dead from suicide; Naomi didn’t bother to wonder why she’d done it as she looked at Ikneth – and showing just how touch-starved he was. As a widower, he didn’t want to remarry, and apparently, as chancellor, it had been a long time since he’d found a slave woman willing to share his bed.

Naomi had refused to dwell on the fact that he had put the word “willing” in his sentence, and as he’d done to her what he’d done, clearly not actually caring whether or not she enjoyed it, she had retreated into her mind, sorting through the information he’d given her and the devices she’d seen in the repair shop. _She might just be able to punch a hole through their ion storm if she could steal the right devices from the repair shop, give_ Voyager _’s transporters a chance to lock onto her and the others._

“What are you doing?” a horrified voice whispered from Ikneth’s bedroom doorway, and Naomi nearly vomited when she saw her father – the others called him “Gres” – standing in the doorway.

She moved fluidly, silently, to her feet, glad she had thought to put her clothes back on the night before as she said in her own guarded whisper, “Getting information.” She walked past him, towards her own bedroom in this place as she said, “I think I have an idea of how to get us all back to _Voyager_.”

He followed her, still clearly trying to comprehend what he’d seen as he hissed, “If your mother finds out the lengths that you went to t—”

Naomi whirled to face him so quickly it made her own nausea worse. She ignored the feeling, stuck a finger in his face, and gave him her most withering impression of Lieutenant Torres’s glare. “ _No one_ is telling my mother a thing about what you saw in there, do you understand me?”

Naomi watched his horror turn to abject agony, and she knew then that he _knew_ despite her lies. But suddenly she wanted those lies, needed them, if she was going to be able to keep looking her father in the eye while… consorting with Ikneth.

She turned to continue the trek back to her room as he asked gravely, “Will it do me any good to ask you to stay away from him?”

“No,” she answered simply. Blinking tears out of her eyes before she glanced over her shoulder at him, she said, “I have a feeling a Janeway outranks you even here and now, don’t you?”

* * *

After having spent the rest of the previous day in meetings with Commander Tuvok’s children and daughter-in-law, Samantha was eager to attempt the rescue mission they’d put together. A group of them were going down to the surface, possibility of crashing a shuttle be damned, to set up a site to site transporter beam on the planet’s surface, as near as they could get it without being detected. Sek estimated they’d have about three minutes to take their transporter shafts and run before they were surrounded by guards.

_ They weren’t good odds _ , Samantha allowed, _but a good mother would do whatever she could for her child – and a good wife would do the same for her husband. Because Gres was down there, too._ It was a fact that she didn’t think had quite sunk in yet, but what she could comfort herself with was the fact that they had increased their chances of at least partial success by bringing two whole sets of transporter shafts, and double the amount of crewmen that were honestly needed. 

_ If half of them got caught or hurt, at least the other half could complete the rescue mission. _ She hated the thought, but there was no way around it.

_ They were off to a good start,  _ she decided when they reached Celea’s surface about an hour’s walk away from the town with only moderate damage to the ship and no injured crew, thanks to Tom’s expert flying. “Good work, lieutenant,” she congratulated him happily.

Her good mood, however, evaporated when she, along with the others, saw how wrong Sek’s estimation of their window of opportunity had been. Somehow, when they opened the shuttle ramp, they were already surrounded.

One of the guards reached in, grabbed Quillen, and put a gun to his temple, ordering, “Off the ship. Nicely, all of you – and drop all your weapons in a pile there as you come out. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

They all looked to Chakotay, who nodded grimly and led the way out. With a weapon being held to one of their own, there wasn’t even a fight.

“Don’t worry,” one of the many guards said. “The lot of you are being taken directly to the chancellor and the home of the snitch who gave you up. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

* * *

The snitch, as it turned out, was the chancellor’s cook, who had overheard T’Pel and her daughter-in-law discussing the plan Tuvok had told her about. Not that it mattered anymore as they were all herded from Ikneth’s living room down to the basement of his house where they were deposited into a dank cell that apparently, thankfully, hadn’t seen the presence of another being in quite some time.

“I’ve never even been down here before,” offered the Vulcan who had been left to guard them. “But of course every self-respecting house around here would have a cell to keep their slaves in. We only have a cabin on the grounds because Ikneth wants to be ‘illustrious.’”

“How good for you,” Commander Tuvok said dryly, stepping close to the bars. 

The other’s face softened. “Hello, Father.”

“Hello, Assan. This is not how I wanted to see you again.”

“Nor I you,” Assan allowed with a bitten back sigh.


	17. Chapter 17

“Where are the others?” Commander Chakotay asked Assan.

“My mother is trying to make her way to your landing site. Gres will have taken my place with Ikneth, and the others are at their jobs.”

“Naomi?” Samantha asked.

“Is in the town proper, working at the repair shop. That’s part of why my mother was trying to locate you all. I understand you’re in a rush to get this rescue mission accomplished – believe me, so are we – but you came at a bad time of day. We have routines here that allow us a measure of freedom at this point. Give us until nightfall. Let us go about our daily routines, and at the end of that part of our day, we may have some plan.”

“And if you don’t have a plan by then?” Lieutenant Torres asked.

“Then we’ll fill you in on everything we know here, and we’ll work together to come up with a plan. Right now, there’s too much to tell you, and we hope to leave too soon to make the telling of it all worth it.”

“Fine,” Commander Chakotay agreed. “But are you sure there’s nothing at all we need to know?”

“What is the location of your transporter staffs?”

“All taken,” Commander Chakotay replied.

“Of course. That means they’re either going to be delivered to the repair shop for analysis, or one of you is going to be taken out of here to work on them and the other technology that came with you.”

“We’re not playing Celea’s little song and dance,” Commander Chakotay warned.

“Then you’ll be punished.”

“I really don’t know that I care.”

Assan looked away, sighing. “But I do.”

“Why?” Tuvok asked, his expression flickering with concern as he noticed the weight threading into his son’s tone at the simple statement.

“Because Gres and I are the bodyguards at this house. Security.”

He faltered, trying to find the most apt word, and it was Lieutenant Paris who supplied with false cheerfulness, “Enforcers?”

Assan nodded gravely, explaining only, “Sometimes you do what you’re called upon to do to keep your people safe.”

“We understand that,” Commander Chakotay said, not unkindly, and in his tone, there was a strange permission, an allowance for if things ever got to that point.

Samantha frowned, hoping even harder that they would be out of here before it came to that.

Assan let out a breath of frustration, glancing towards the stairs as someone came halfway down them. “We’re trading off; Ikneth wants you upstairs with him.”

“Why?”

“You know he says you take up less space, and invite less questions about your race than I do, so he likes having you be the one to stand there for hours while he chats with his friends.” Friendly sarcasm laced the tone of the man on the stairwell, and Samantha was shaking again just from listening to his voice.

_She’d nearly forgotten what his voice sounded like with all their years apart, but that was it, that was his voice, that was him!_

“You just want to see our visitors for yourself,” Assan accused merrily.

“Yes, now go up,” Gres answered bluntly, and the two men passed each other on the narrow stairs as Assan went up… and then there was Gres, standing at the bottom of the stairwell, searching the faces behind the cell bars, cataloging who he saw.

His gaze snagged, once, twice, on Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Torres, but he froze when he saw Samantha, which was fitting, because Samantha’s breath had frozen in her chest.

“So, are you gonna let us out of here, or what?” Lieutenant Torres asked by way of greeting when neither of them spoke or moved.

“Or what,” Gres said, moving quickly now that the lieutenant had broken the spell. He came to the door of the cell, ordering, “Nobody leaves,” as he stuck a key in the lock and swung the door silently open.

Samantha was in his arms as soon as it was possible, just hugging him, being surrounded by his presence. He’d always been just enough bigger than her that his hugs were all-encompassing and comforting; now she felt like someone coming up for air after they’d had their head forced underwater for a decade. She turned her face into his chest, not wanting her shipmates to see how emotional she was, but far less willing to give him up.

“Hello, milady,” Gres murmured quietly, his chin pointy against the top of her hair. “My darling Aceso. I’ve missed you… I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Samantha promised without moving.

“Hey,” Gres took a half-step back, cupped her cheek in a gentle hand. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed on a chuckle of disbelief.

Her husband kissed her, and that, too, was air, life, and everything she felt had been slowly drifting farther and farther from her over the past decade.

Samantha was a complete person without Gres, she knew that – a good scientist, a great mom, and a genuinely caring human being – but she was a _better_ woman with him, and she was looking forward to getting reacquainted with Gres, and with those parts of herself that he brought out.

For her family, the rest of their voyage home had just gotten so much easier.

* * *

_“We were captured, my wife, and are being held where you live; it would be best for you to return to this house.”_

The simple statement seared an unusual amount of terror into T’Pel’s heart, but what could she do except comply with the suggestion? There was no longer any point in her trying to make her way to a crash site with no allies at it, and so she turned back towards her “home” on this deplorable planet as Tuvok began to explain to her what had transpired while she was away from the house.

Gres had been reunited with his wife. _Good._

They would just have to regroup and figure out a new plan, if they couldn’t adjust the one that they had. _Not good, but doable._

 _If nothing else,_ she decided as she approached the house, _if they had to spend even more time here, she would be doing it with her husband on the premises._


	18. Chapter 18

When T’Pel was nearly back to Ikneth’s house – guard-free, thanks to her earlier guise of a simple trip to the market – she was joined by Farun, T’Meni, and Alessi as they, too, returned from the neighbor’s house. She told them what Tuvok had relayed to her as they helped her put away her purchases.

“My father-in-law is here,” Farun double-checked, her gaze tumultuous, torn between concern and something happier at the prospect of seeing him, meeting him again.

“Yes,” T’Pel agreed, putting away her basket as they finished with the groceries.

Farun turned to T’Meni, asking, “Would you like to meet your father’s father?”

T’Meni nodded, taking Farun’s hand.

“May I take her down to them?” Farun asked.

T’Pel nodded her agreement, but when she turned to ask Alessi if her daughter wished to accompany them, to meet her father, the girl was gone. 

Seeing her mother-in-law’s confusion, Farun offered, “She likely went out to the cabin, to bed, before she heard what we were discussing. She played energetically today. I will find her,” Farun placed T’Meni’s hand in T’Pel’s, saying with understanding in her eyes, “You go see your husband.”

So, she did, drawing in a steadying breath as she descended the narrow stairs at the back of the hall with her son’s daughter. What she saw when she stepped into view nearly made her smile. Gres was standing in the cell, the door wide open, with his wife in his arms.

“Be glad I am not Ikneth,” T’Pel said, her tone light but rebuking all the same.

“Bug off,” Gres said unworriedly. “I know the difference between your footsteps and his. Now, come in here, too.”

His latter suggestion followed, crouching down beside T’Meni as Tuvok did the same in front of them. “Hello, little one,” Tuvok offered to the girl.

“Hello,” T’Meni replied, proper and serious as ever. She was a good, Vulcan girl, Sek’s daughter.

“Tuvok,” T’Pel introduced them. “This is T’Meni, Sek’s daughter. T’Meni, this is your father’s father, Tuvok.”

“You’re supposed to be on the ship, _Voyager_ , aren’t you?” T’Meni asked Tuvok with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Tuvok agreed. “But for now, I’m here with you. Is that alright?”

T’Meni nodded seriously. “Yes.”

“And is it alright if I talk to your father’s mother for a moment?”

“Yes.”

“Come here, Minnie,” Gres spoke up, and when T’Meni went to him, he scooped her up with one arm while keeping the other wrapped firmly around the woman T’Pel had automatically assumed was Ensign Samantha Wildman.

T’Pel stood to her full height when Tuvok did the same, offering her hand to him in a Vulcan kiss. Feeling her emotions in their complicated, swirling entirety through their bond as he kissed her that way, Tuvok gave her a strange look, an old uncertainty in his eyes that T’Pel wasn’t sure what to do with.

_ “What is it?” _ she asked.

_ “You wish for me to kiss you – as the other part of your people do.” _

Mentally, T’Pel froze. The last thing she wanted to do as they were reunited was instantly make him uncomfortable, so she did her best to quiet the thought, to quiet that part of her mind, certainly while they were in front of others—

Only to find Tuvok’s arms firmly around her waist as he kissed her as humans did. Right there in front of everyone. She swallowed firmly once he released her, from the kiss if not from his embrace. _“I don’t think you’ve ever done that, not in public, and not… at an unspoken request.”_

There was a question in her tone, if not her words, and her husband’s mind became thoughtful as he admitted, _“I have spent years watching a very successful mixed-species marriage lived out in front of me, and though I have never discussed it with anyone, never admitted to that which you are… I have seen that there have been some errors in my ways. Places where I should’ve been allowing for your differences, as you need, rather than asking you to swallow them with even more… emotion-controlling techniques like meditation, or… allowing someone else into our relationship to take on the parts of you that would necessitate my stepping outside my comfort zone. You are uncomfortable often, trying to fit soundly into one box, that of being only Vulcan; I believe it’s time for us to… ‘meet in the middle,’ both be uncomfortable together for a little while until we can strike a real balance that is comfortable to both of us. So, when my wife wishes for a kiss, I will kiss her. It’s certainly not a hardship for me. Is that acceptable to you?”_

T’Pel was stunned, but she agreed easily after a moment, even more love for him swelling in her already full heart. _“Certainly, my beloved.”_

The happiness she felt, however, was dimmed a little when Farun descended the stairs, greeted Tuvok, made hasty introductions to the others, and then informed T’Pel with clearly growing concern, “I found who I was looking for; she’s run to the cabin, and is refusing to come out. She was screeching an unseemly amount whenever I tried to explain to her what was happening, and if she understood who she’s to meet, she doesn’t care.”

T’Pel sighed, regretfully disentangling herself from her husband to say, “I’ll talk to her.”

“Do you want me to try?” Gres offered, lowering T’Meni to the ground so that she could run to Farun.

“No, of course not. Do your job; stay here, guard the prisoners, and stay out of trouble.” She turned from Gres to Tuvok, saying, “Hopefully, I will return with the other child.”

However, Alessi’s stubbornness was somewhat legendary, even for a Vulcan, and not even T’Pel could coax, soothe, or order her well enough to get her to leave the bed where she’d curled up in the cabin. Short of picking her up and carrying her mid-tantrum through the yard, T’Pel could tell she wasn’t going to convince Alessi to meet her father tonight. Instead, she returned to the basement with its cell, informing Tuvok with an air of frustration of what had transpired in the cabin.

“He’s a great figure in her mind,” Gres pointed out. “And she’s young, and only half understands what’s happening. Her fear will subside, I’m sure.”

_ Was he talking about Alessi or Naomi?  _ T’Pel wondered but did not ask. 

Instead, she only sent a wave of grateful approval into Tuvok’s mind as he agreed with Gres despite the disappointment that was obvious in their bond, “Perhaps tomorrow, then.”


	19. Chapter 19

Hannah Whitley did not consider herself a stupid person, and she knew that the people she shared Ikneth’s cabin with weren’t any less intelligent than her. Every adult in that cabin knew Naomi “Janeway” was Naomi Wildman, Gres’ long sought-after daughter. And so far, Naomi had proven herself a clever person from what Hannah had heard; surely, she had to suspect that they had caught onto her lie.

To those who knew what to look for, it was obvious!

Now the question had become how to get Cadet Wildman to admit what they all already knew. In that, she’d proven to be senselessly stubborn.

Walking with Assan at her side and Ikneth and Cadet Wildman talking raptly in front of her, Hannah watched the cadet and the captor and a painful feeling she understood why Wildman might feel… afraid, or ashamed, to face her father truthfully right now.

Then she returned to the cabin, where Farun explained to her why Alessi was stubbornly buried under a blanket and angrily shrieking at whoever dared disturb her. It was a disheartening story, realizing that Cadet Wildman’s rescue party had been captured, but it gave her an idea.

She approached the servants’ entrance to the house, knocking insistently until Runda opened the door.

“What do you want?” Runda asked. “Dinner isn’t ready yet.”

“I need to speak to the new girl,” Hannah explained briefly, slipping past Runda and into the house.

“She’s napping in her room,” Runda said with a roll of her eyes. “She begged off a whole dinner with the chancellor by saying she was tired from her full day at work, then flounced off to the guest room like she as good as owns this place.”

_Runda had been eavesdropping again…_

Hannah didn’t point that out, saying pleasantly, “Thank you, Runda,” as she headed up the stairs, ignoring the cook’s continued muttering.

She knocked softly on the door to the guest bedroom, waiting for Cadet Wildman to call out “come in” before she did so. “I hate to bring you frightening news a second time,” Hannah apologized once she’d shut them in alone together. “But…” she sighed, genuinely hating what she had to say next. “ _Voyager_ sent down a rescue team after you.”

Before she could figure out how to word what came next, Cadet Wildman informed her, “I know.”

“Oh. That’s… a relief. Did T’Pel tell you already?”

“No,” Naomi answered, her face now open and honest as she talked to Hannah with curiosity in her eyes. “My boyfriends are part of that away team; I have a telepathic link to them, and I’ve been in contact with them since they entered the town. They’ve kept me updated on what’s going on.”

“How interesting!” Hannah said, only to firmly remind herself not to get distracted. She had an idea, but she needed this conversation to go a certain way to make it work. Then she saw her opening, asking, “You have… more than one boyfriend?”

A guardedness that Hannah understood far too well flashed through Cadet Wildman’s eyes before the friendliness did it’s best to settle back into her face. “I do. Quillen and Icheb.”

Hannah raised her hands in a show of mock surrender, promising, “I of all people won’t judge you. But I am curious – ’Icheb?’ Is that a Human name, or a Ktarian one?”

“Neither. He’s Brunali.”

 _A mixed-species relationship,_ which Hannah had suspected, based on the information Farun had given her. “Oh,” she looked at Cadet Wildman as if the idea was just occurring to her. She glanced away, at the clock, then back to the cadet as she said with a hesitancy that was less put-on than she would’ve liked, “Then maybe you understand my… concern.”

Naomi looked at her warily – she suspected already that she was being duped – but with confusion there, too, as she asked, “What concern?”

“I haven’t been down to introduce myself yet – to my father-in-law, I mean. Assan is supposed to be on guard, watching the ‘prisoners, so it would be a good time, but… I don’t want him to be upset if his father is unhappy with a Human daughter-in-law.”

“Who? Commander Tuvok?” Cadet Wildman was already shaking her head. “No. You won’t have that problem with him. You should go introduce yourself. I promise, everything will be fine.”

“That’s good to know,” Hannah admitted. “But he’s already had a bad day because of his daughter, and I don’t want to make his stress about his family worse.”

“His daughter?”

“One of the little girls here, who came as part of our crew – you wouldn’t have met either of them – Alessi, she’s about five years old in Human maturation standards. She’s Tuvok’s youngest child, and she’s never met him, and she’s…” Hannah sighed. “I assume she’s afraid to meet the legend that Commander Tuvok has been talked up to become in her mind. She’s sitting, unreachable, in our quarters, _refusing_ to meet her own father, and, from what my sister-in-law heard from T’Pel, it’s really hurting him.”

Cadet Wildman sat wide-eyed, asking, “Commander Tuvok has a fifth child?”

“Yes.”

“That he’s never met?”

Hannah nodded.

“And… Alessi is afraid to meet him?”

“Yes,” Hannah bit back an amused smile as she watched the cadet process this.

“And you said Assan is the one sitting with my crewmates downstairs?” she checked.

Hannah nodded. “For now.” _No need for Cadet Wildman to know that Hannah was trying to time this with the “changing of the guard” so that Assan could eat his dinner._

“Would you take me to your cabin?” Cadet Wildman asked thoughtfully, standing from where she’d been sitting on the edge of the bed before she offered, “Maybe I can reason with Alessi, convince her to meet Commander Tuvok.”

“Be warned,” Hannah advised. “Alessi hasn’t been taught meditation techniques yet; she’s far from your stereotypical Vulcan child.”

“I’m not afraid of her,” Cadet Wildman replied, confidence creeping into her tone. “I was designated babysitter for a quarter-Klingon girl growing up, and I’ve been told I’m… alright with kids.”

Worry flashed through the cadet’s eyes that Hannah ignored as she said happily, “Perfect.”


	20. Chapter 20

Hannah and Cadet Wildman hurried downstairs, past the cook, and out to the cabin. Opening the door, Hannah called coaxingly, “Alessi, I have a visitor for you. She’s important here, and you have to behave.”

“You have to behave like you do at the house next door,” Farun added sternly, “Starting with coming out from underneath the blanket.”

Alessi looked at Farun from underneath her blanket, clearly disgruntled at the idea, and that was when Cadet Wildman said cheerfully, “Actually, it looks nice under that blanket. Can I join you?”

Alessi looked blankly at Cadet Wildman for a long moment before she glanced at Farun and asked, “Like at the neighbors?”

“Yes.”

Alessi nodded at Cadet Wildman, who was still smiling as she sat cross-legged on the bed next to the child and pulled the blanket over her own head. Without the cadet to judge her, Farun looked skeptically at Hannah, who shook her head. 

_ Everything is under control.  _

“Do you know,” Cadet Wildman asked Alessi confidentially. “That something happened today that made your mother very happy?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“My father came to see us. T’Meni said so.”

“Did T’Meni like your father?”

Hannah saw Alessi nod from where the blanket was draped over her head. 

“Do you like your father?”

“I don’t know,” Alessi said uncertainly. “I don’t know my father.”

“You know something about him, right?”

“I know that he’s big, and serious, like I’m supposed to try to be, and that he’s important on his ship.”

“You know…” Cadet Wildman revealed mysteriously. “I know your father.” Her tone dipped down into something kinder, soothing. “I grew up with him seeming big and important, and most of the time he still does. When I was old enough, he even started to teach me kal-toh, on the days when he. Missed. You. Do you know that, that he missed you? That your father is already very fond of you?”

“But he doesn’t know me! What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Not possible,” Cadet Wildman assured her firmly.

“But I’m not a good Vulcan,” Alessi blurted out, and even Hannah froze to hear the young girl speak so frankly. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if I disappoint him?”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cadet Wildman said gently, and the blanket shifted around them as Hannah realized the cadet had pulled Alessi into her lap. “You won’t disappoint him. You are… different from him, but that’s okay, because he’s very grownup, and you have a lot of growing up left to do, that’s all. That’s why he’s your father at all, so he can help you grow up. You don’t have to be perfect now – or ever! You just have to be together. At least sometimes, right?”

“You are with your father sometimes, right? And he likes you?”

_ A simple question from a child seeking comfort _ , Hannah knew, but the answer, she suspected, wasn’t any simpler for Cadet Wildman than it was for Alessi.

“Well,” Cadet Wildman whispered to Alessi. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

There was a pause, and Hannah heard the cadet whisper something she couldn’t make out but could easily guess at. 

“You mean _Papa G_!” Alessi blurted, sudden and loud into the stillness. “But he’s _fun_ , and very nice, even if he gets sad and quiet sometimes. It’s silly to be afraid of Papa G.”

“Maybe I think it’s silly to be afraid of your father,” Cadet Wildman pointed out, waiting a beat to let Alessi consider that before she offered quietly, “I tell you what, I’ll make you a deal: if we go see your father, I’ll go see mine. Whatever you do with yours, I’ll do with mine for the rest of the evening.”

Hannah’s eyes widened, and she put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. She knew Cadet Wildman thought she was safe with that deal, thought that Gres was going to be with Ikneth if they went down to the cell, but she was _wrong_ , and she was digging herself a beautiful little hole.

Hannah wasn’t about to stop her.

Cadet Wildman asked Alessi carefully, “Is that something you would like to do? Go see your father?”

“And Papa G?”

“If we see him, we see him, but I think we should go see your father first,” Cadet Wildman compromised… sort of.

Nevertheless, Alessi pulled the blanket off their heads and agreed, “Alright.”

“Wonderful!” Cadet Wildman cheered, unfolding herself from the bed and putting Alessi on her feet on the floor. She offered Alessi her hand, asking with an encouraging smile, “Shall we?”

Alessi watched Cadet Wildman for a moment, clearly gathering her nerve, before she slipped her hand into the redhead’s and agreed, “Yes.”

Hannah, Cadet Wildman, and Alessi duly trekked across the yard, past Runda in the kitchen, and down to the cell that held _Voyager_ ’s crew. Hannah went first down the stairs, seeing that they were late; she’d missed the “changing of the guard,” and now Assan was nowhere to be seen. 

_ Oh well. She wasn’t  _ that _worried about Commander Tuvok. At least Gres was here._

Cadet Wildman and Alessi came down the stairs, still holding hands, with the younger girl halfway hiding behind the elder once they reached the landing. Wildman took one look at Gres, on duty where Hannah had said Assan should be, and gave Hannah an exasperated look.

Hannah smiled, merrily pointing out, “With that promise you made her, you brought most of what’s about to happen onto yourself.”

She was a little surprised when it was the leader of the away mission who spoke to Cadet Wildman, and not Ensign Wildman who asked, “Naomi, are you okay? Quillen and Icheb updated us on everything that you told them has happened so far, but are you okay?”

“Yes, sir, I’m fine,” Cadet Wildman replied.

“I’m glad to hear it.” The commander looked her dead in the eye and said pointedly, “I’m sure your mother will be pleased to hear it when we get back to her.”

Alessi looked at Cadet Wildman in confusion, asking, “Who’s your mother?”

Cadet Wildman looked at her commander, who was holding back a smirk, and said nothing for a second. The commander watched her just as intently, clearly unintimidated.

“She asked you a question,” a lieutenant in red pointed out from behind the bars.

Cadet Wildman turned to that man, her face awash with a myriad of emotions that Hannah couldn’t even begin to pick apart. 

The two young men in the cell were apparently having more luck with understanding the cadet than she was, though, as they stepped together toward the bars and the ensign in red requested of Gres, “Open the door again, will you?”

“You can go in,” Gres said to Cadet Wildman as he opened the door. “Nobody comes out, though.”

She nodded, and when Gres opened the door, she moved into the cell as soon as the opening was wide enough, both of the youngest men wrapping her in a hug.

Watching Gres watch them, Hannah stepped back to sit on the floor at the landing of the stairs and see what happened next. _Because, really, there were quite a few things needing said here._


	21. Chapter 21

_ “Are you really okay?”  _ Quillen asked Naomi as she stepped into the comfortingly familiar circle of their arms. 

She nodded into his chest.

_ “Really?”  _ Icheb asked. _“As much as I want to believe you, we didn’t actually tell them everything because you appear to be having such a bad time right now.”_

_ “What don’t the others know?”  _ Naomi asked.

_ “They don’t know that you feel so ashamed of yourself right now because you slept with someone,”  _ Quillen answered.

_ “And we didn’t tell them that we feel like you’re still hiding something from us,”  _ Icheb added.

Naomi froze, stepping back from them, physically and mentally, because he was right, and for now they couldn’t afford to figure out why that was. Until they were back on _Voyager,_ that would’ve made things too complicated.

She was saved from having to answer when Gres grunted in surprise, and they all turned to look at him. Feeling abandoned by Naomi and overwhelmed by the presence of so many strangers, Alessi had run to him, wrapping her arms as far around him as she could, hiding her face as much as Naomi had allowed herself to do for a moment. 

“What’s the matter, little one?” Gres asked, running a hand over the top of her head.

“She’s afraid,” Naomi said, stepping away from Icheb and Quillen to hold her hand out to Alessi.

“Of what?” Gres asked, looking down at the unmoving girl in kind concern, placinga steady hand on her back.

Naomi tilted her head in Alessi’s direction, asking her gently, “Can you explain to Papa G and your father what you explained to me?”

Stubbornly, Alessi shook her head.

_ “Do you know why you’re captain’s assistant?”  _ The question from Captain Janeway, and snippets of the ensuing conversation between Captain Janeway, Lieutenant Torres, and Naomi suddenly came back to her, a conversation from years ago whirling through her mind in the space of an instant.

_ “…A… trial course. An up close and personal view of the job you want to have one day. My job.” _

_ “You are a natural leader. …You are a very strong girl, and capable of facing difficult things when it’s necessary.” _

_ “And what about those that will come after you?” _

_ “What can be done about it, then?” _

_ “Don’t let fear get the best of you, kid. You are so much better than that. You were born amidst a ship falling apart, and you made it out alive. From day one, you could do what you put your mind to, so put your mind to this: always stand up for yourself – and your people, like the captain said – and fight if you need to.” _

_ Even if _ , Naomi decided, _she was fighting her own fears,_ and _the child she was trying to fight for._ Drawing in a soft breath that Alessi couldn’t hear, Naomi walked over to her and Gres, crouching down beside the worried child. “Would you feel better,” she asked Alessi. “If we started with someone else, so you can see how nice he is?”

Then Gres began to understand, asking, “Alessi, are you afraid of your father?”

“I want him to like me.”

“He will,” Gres promised gently. “You’re his daughter, and that’s an amazing thing, and because you’re his daughter, I promise, he already cares about you.”

Out of her periphery, Naomi hesitated when she noticed that Gres was looking at her, not Alessi, as he spoke.

She cleared her throat as Alessi informed her, “I still want to start with someone else.”

“Okay.” Naomi looked expectantly at Ensign Whitley, though she didn’t move from her place at Alessi’s side as she asked, “I don’t suppose Assan can come down here?”

“No, he’s with Ikneth right now. Why?”

Naomi shook her head minutely, admitting carefully, “I don’t like… when people have to do certain things alone, that’s all.”

Ensign Whitley peered at her as she stood, saying with her own careful understanding, “I bet not, but I’ll be okay.” She winked at Alessi, stepping closer to the cell as she said, “I’m not scared of him.” Turning on her heel towards the cell, she nodded in her father-in-law’s direction, saying, “Lieutenant Tuvok, I presume?”

“Commander, actually,” Commander Tuvok corrected lightly. “But yes. And you are?”

“Ensign Hannah Whitley. I was once a triage nurse for Star Fleet.” Fine lines of wariness showed in her face, but she was keeping her emotions from her tone too as she added, “I am also Assan’s wife.”

Something that wasn’t quite confusion flashed across Commander Tuvok’s face, but there was no judgement there as he only pointed out, “You’re not the woman I arranged for him to marry.”

“No. I’ve been given to understand that she broke their agreement off when you were stranded in this quadrant; if you want more information, you would probably be best off asking T’Pel.”

Commander Tuvok nodded agreeably, pausing before he asked, “You love my son?”

“I do.”

“And… he loves you?”

“I think he does, yes.”

“And you treat each other well?”

“Yes, sir. Always.”

The commander appeared to shrug off his concerns, saying simply, “Then welcome to my family, Ensign Whitley; it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you,” she replied with a smile. Turning, she walked to kneel in front of Alessi and Naomi, taking one of Alessi’s hands, and, better hidden, one of Naomi’s as she pointed out in a whisper, “See? Very kind.” Standing, she went back to her place near the stairwell, telling Naomi cheerfully, “Thank you for helping me overcome my fears.”

“You duped me.”

“I still say you did most of this to yourself. And you’re doing just fine.” 

When Ensign Whitley smiled at her, Naomi felt the beginnings of a real friendship despite her own flagging annoyance, and she smiled back despite herself. Turning to Alessi, she pointed out softly, “Your turn?”

Still, Alessi shook her head.

“Alright,” Naomi replied patiently. “I have an idea. You remember the deal you and I made? I’ll do what you do?” Alessi nodded. “How about _you_ do what _I_ do? Would that be alright?” Alessi gave her a wide-eyed, wary look, and Naomi tacked on, “Please? Look, I’ll even start with something easy.”

Talking to the little girl, putting her own worries through a narrower, more child-like lens had calmed her nerves, and when Naomi stood, meeting Gres’ caring gaze, she was no longer worried about what came next. Even if she had been, now there was a little one coming up behind her, watching her, and she had to do well for her. 

For once, though, she wanted to do well for herself, and for what this simple moment in time could mean for the rest of her life. 

“Hi. I’m Naomi – Cadet Naomi Wildman, of the Federation starship _Voyager_ , and I’m your daughter.”


	22. Chapter 22

Naomi’s father grinned at her, and said merrily, “Really? I had no idea!”

“I made one mistake!” Naomi defended herself automatically, but no less in good spirits. “You have _no idea_ what the past week has been like for me, and I think that if I only made one verbal misstep during that whole time, I’m doing alright.”

“I would agree,” he answered, more serious now, before he turned to the cell and asked, “Commander Tuvok, how do we feel about hugs?”

Commander Tuvok arched an eyebrow. “From you? I will resist.” He knelt down, watching his daughter intently from across the room as he added, “But from others, if they wish it, I will welcome it.”

“Can you go say ‘hello’ to him?” Naomi asked Alessi gently, nodding back towards Commander Tuvok. “Like I did to Papa G? And maybe, if you want to, you can give him that hug – like I’m doing to my father.”

Alessi barely had time to look confused before Naomi was wrapping her arms around Gres and holding on tightly. He released a breath over the top of her head, like he had remembered to breathe, and from somewhere in the cell – from her mother – there was a watery, relief-filled laugh. Gres held out one of his arms, despite his earlier orders, and Ensign Wildman darted into his embrace without a second thought.

Naomi turned her head to better accommodate her mother’s presence and glimpsed Alessi nervously approaching Commander Tuvok with a hesitant smile.

“Hannah’s right,” Gres told his little family. “I’m not sure how yet, but we’re going to be just fine.”

Naomi was still smiling, still basking in the idea that her father was in front of her and holding her, and Alessi was allowing Commander Tuvok to do the same, which was nice. She was happy… but she was worried.

Quillen and Icheb were studying her – both what they saw and what they felt from their bond – but they couldn’t read her thoughts, because she’d hidden them firmly behind a mental blockade she hadn’t even known she could construct before crashing on Celea. She wasn’t even sure she’d done it on purpose, but as things stood now, she wasn’t sure she wanted to deconstruct it, either. Quillen and Icheb, however, were clearly trying to get around the barrier. They knew she was worried, but they couldn’t figure out why.

 _“What’s the matter?”_ Quillen asked through their bond.

 _“Let us see, please,”_ Icheb requested gently. _“Let us help.”_

 _“I’m not sure you can help from here,”_ Naomi said.

 _“Then why not at least share the burden?”_ Icheb asked, still confused by her resistance to their offers to be there for her.

They loved her, and she loved them, and it was very out of character for any of them to hide something from the others. _So, maybe they had a point,_ she ceded. _It couldn’t hurt anything to tell them part of what was wrong._

As she stepped out of her parents’ embrace and towards her boyfriends, everyone was startled to see unhappy tears welling in her eyes as she partially lifted the mental barrier.

“You’re worried about my mom?” Quillen blurted aloud, confusing the others.

Naomi clenched her jaw, replying silently, _“I’m ashamed that she was right. I was… with someone else. And he gave me the information that I needed, but I still… did what I did.”_

 _“Why?”_ Icheb asked, his tone level, but his gaze painfully suspicious.

_“Icheb, I didn’t – I don’t – feel anything for him; I—”_

_“I know that. I mean why are you still hiding something from us?”_

Naomi winced, but ensured even her thoughts were confident as she replied, _“I need you to let that go for now. Let me be, please.”_

 _“No,”_ Icheb answered instantly.

_“Can you please believe me when I tell you that right now, I’m just trying to spare you?”_

_“You just told us you slept with another man,”_ Quillen pointed out. _“What’s worse than that, that you want to spare us from something else?”_

They were ganging up on her when she was just trying to help them stay sane down here, and she began to back away from their combined irritation.

“Hey,” Lieutenant Paris spoke up warily. “What’s going on? Everybody okay over there?”

“Yes,” Icheb declared evenly, but mentally he was still studying Naomi.

Quillen volunteered, “She’s trying to lie to us.”

“That’s not like—” Lieutenant Paris began as Naomi objected, “I’m not lying! I’m just trying to protect you.”

“From what?” Commander Chakotay asked.

Naomi faltered before admitting with a slow exhale, “From feeling… everything that I’m feeling right now.” She lifted her chin, saying, “It’s hard – but I know… that I can manage it alone if I have to.”

“But you’re not going to tell us what ‘it’ is, though?” Quillen asked.

“No,” Naomi said, at least a little regretfully.

“Can I guess?” Icheb asked with a steadiness that suddenly made Naomi suspicious. When he felt her peering back into his mind, into _his_ suspicions, he smiled slightly, dryness in his tone and growing worry in his mind. Through their bond, he pointed out, _“I am a science officer, after all.”_

 _“With a basis in astrophysics and genetics,”_ Naomi replied silently.

 _“Guys?”_ Quillen was looking between them. _“What am I missing here?”_

 _“I think,”_ Icheb admitted slowly and silently as he moved to wrap his arms loosely around Naomi’s waist, watching her expression carefully even as he spoke to Quillen. _“That she… is… having our baby.”_

Quillen’s face went blank with shock… and then he lit up, exclaiming, “Really?!”

“Quillen, hush!” Naomi left Icheb’s arms and rushed to put a hand physically over Quillen’s mouth.

“But really?” he asked around her fingers – needless dramatics, as he could’ve asked through their bond.

For a moment, Naomi let herself feel careful excitement instead of numbing fear. She smiled, nodded.

 _“Really?”_ he asked a third time, awe in every fiber of his being, and joy sparkling in his eyes.

 _“Yes,”_ she confirmed, tears gathering in her eyes as he held her, gently pressing their foreheads together.

Icheb stepped closer, his arms wrapping around them both – holding them and trying, in the feeble way available to him, to protect them all. Naomi could feel his trepidation, and, frankly, his increasing fear because of their situation, but underneath it he was cautiously excited. That excitement, however, was not the emotion that he was allowing to come to the fore. In fact, he wasn’t emoting very much at all, until a steely determination was made to overcome his fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's that, a reunion and an announcement, both befitting Father's Day!  
> I'm almost finished writing the rest of this story, but since it's going to be the last story in this series, I want to make it actually the last thing that I post in this universe so that I can feel like I closed the story out properly. That being said, I have a few small stories that I want to write in this universe as well:  
> 1) A missing Gres/Sam moment  
> 2) One more three-ish chapter story centering around Naomi and her relationships with Chakotay and B'Elanna  
> 3) A Naomi & Miral moment  
> So I may write those out first, post them, and then post the rest of this story. What are your thoughts?


	23. Chapter 23

Neither Naomi nor Quillen were particularly surprised when Icheb turned to Commander Chakotay and asked, “How are we getting out of here and back to _Voyager_?”

Commander Chakotay blinked in surprise at his sudden change of topic, and his similar change in bearing. 

“Dare we ask again what’s going on?” Lieutenant Paris asked the trio.

“You’ll find out once we’re back on _Voyager_ ,” Naomi declared firmly. She was afraid they would try to become overprotective if they found out, and she didn’t want to deal with that here. “For now: how are we getting there?”

“That’s quite the sudden change in thought processes, I’d venture,” Commander Chakotay tried again. “Isn’t it?”

“I would say our return to our ship should be the main thought on everyone’s mind, wouldn’t you?” Icheb asked Commander Chakotay. 

The commander was still studying the trio, and he didn’t answer, so Naomi asked Gres instead, “Have they been assigned yet?”

“Yes, but I don’t know to where.”

“More to the point, are they going to be taken away from this house?”

Gres shrugged, but admitted, “Probably. They’re almost certainly going to be separated from one another to some degree.”

“No,” Lieutenant Torres was already shaking her head. “That’s not good. _Voyager_ ’s going to be attempting a broad-spectrum beam-out. If we aren’t together to be caught up in that, we won’t go back to _Voyager_ , and I’m not sure how many attempts they’re going to be able to make with the equipment we have.”

“The only time we’re guaranteed together is right now,” Gres informed them. “Tonight. If they follow the previous patterns, we – Assan and I – will very likely have to help move most, if not all, of you tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have tonight,” Naomi said simply.

“It’s not that simple,” Quillen told her. “They took our transporter poles.”

“Yeah, I know. They brought them to me; they’re in the shop where I’m supposed to work.”

“Do you know exactly where they are in that building?” Commander Tuvok asked.

Naomi nodded.

“Do the Celeans know what the poles do?” Commander Chakotay asked.

“No.” She shook her head, smiled slyly. “I’m still trying to figure them out.”

Commander Chakotay chuckled warmly. “Good work, cadet.”

“Thank you,” Naomi replied with a smile.

“Is it possible for us to steal the transporter poles back, then?” Lieutenant Paris asked.

“Only if we have a lockpick and a way to get past the nightguards,” Ensign Whitley pointed out.

“Sam can pick the lock, I can take care of the guards, and then Naomi and Sam can get the poles while I keep watch,” Gres suggested.

“You know how to pick locks, Mom?” Naomi asked in surprise.

Her mother shrugged, replying, “It’s not a skill I’ve utilized in a while, but, yes, I can.”

“Huh,” Naomi said, and nothing else as she nodded her acceptance. She sensed a bigger story, and she would ask about it later, but right now wasn’t the time, as they all clearly had other things on their mind.

“Is that an acceptable plan?” Gres asked, glancing to include his wife, daughter, Commander Chakotay, and Lieutenant Torres in the question.

Ensign Wildman and Naomi both nodded seriously.

“If you’re willing to put yourself in those positions, then, yes, I’m willing to let you,” Commander Chakotay agreed.

Lieutenant Torres snorted when Gres looked to her for her opinion again. “I appreciate the respect and rise of old habits, but don’t look at me; I don’t have to have an opinion here unless I _want_ to voice my opinion.”

Lieutenant Paris looked at her in surprise, asking, “You’re not taking an opportunity to have your say? That’s not like you.”

Lieutenant Torres looked at Naomi with concern in her eyes. “I don’t think we have all the information, and because of that, I don’t want to… champion what might ultimately be the wrong call.”

“If you’re being that cautious,” Commander Chakotay pointed out. “You must really think we’re missing an important piece of information.”

Lieutenant Torres didn’t look away from Naomi as she said, “I do think it’s important, yes.”

The lieutenant was trying, rather gently, for her, to push Naomi into talking, telling the whole story, but Naomi was even more determined that wouldn’t happen yet. “I disagree, actually,” she informed Lieutenant Torres, carefully pushing back in her own way.

“Oh?” Lieutenant Torres raised her eyebrows. “How’s that?”

“Because I think it’s stupid to reduce a perfectly capable person to a lesser standing, to make less use of them than they’re capable of being, based on one factor that has nothing to do with their work,” Naomi replied, cocking an attitude that she wouldn’t have aboard _Voyager_ when Lieutenant Torres continued to push her. “Last I checked, I seem to remember you agreed with me when we were talking about you.”

“But we’re talking about _you_ ,” Lieutenant Torres shot back with worry in her eyes.

Naomi drew in a breath, knowing this conversation was walking the line of giving the others just enough information that they might be able to come to the conclusion that Lieutenant Torres had. She tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, or draw it to a close, anything to at least disclose as little information as possible as she answered patiently, “And while I understand that sometimes people view me differently, this is not one of the times I’m going to tolerate being ‘ship’s baby.’”

“I was under the impression you enjoyed that status,” Lieutenant Paris pointed out curiously.

“Most of the time, yes, but this is one of those times I’m going to need you all to let me be a grownup.”

“You’ve barely hit twenty-one, and that’s by human standards of maturation, never mind your actual age,” Ensign Wildman pointed out. “Forgive the people who raised you if they get a little parentally protective.”

“You are uniquely allowed to stay that way if you want,” Lieutenant Torres informed Ensign Wildman, still unhappy, but retreating from her mild interrogation. 

“Hopefully Sam’s not the only one allowed to be protective,” Gres said mildly, moving back into Naomi’s line of sight. “I’d like to see what you’re capable of—”

“Good. I’d like to show you.”

“—But not if it means either you or your mother get hurt in the process,” Gres finished firmly.

“I’m not going to be reckless,” Naomi promised.

“None of us will be,” Ensign Wildman added, fixing Gres with a suspicious _look_ as she spoke.

“—But I think it’s clear that all three of us are willing to do whatever’s needed to get all of us out of here. Agreed?”

Gres and Ensign Wildman looked at one another, nodding as they laced their fingers together with one another and said, “Agreed.”


	24. Chapter 24

A couple hours later, after Ikneth’s two guards had seen their captor to bed for the evening, they snuck back down to the holding cell where Naomi, Ensign Whitley, and Farun were already waiting with _Voyager_ ’s imprisoned officers. T’Pel came down the stairs with Alessi and T’Meni as Naomi’s father unlocked the cell and Ensign Wildman slipped out just behind Commander Chakotay.

“You remember where the beam-out site is?” Gres doublechecked with T’Pel and Commander Chakotay.

“Of course.” T’Pel sounded mildly insulted as she fixed Gres with a steadying look. “You asked for your family to be the ones to accompany you. I _know_ you’re nervous but trust them to look out for themselves and for you; you do your job, they’ll do theirs, we’ll all be fine.”

Gres smiled lopsidedly at her. “Thanks, old friend.”

“Any time. Now, the three of you get out of here. We’ll be waiting for you at the beam-out site.”

Gres nodded, herding Naomi and Ensign Wildman ahead of him into the night.

Naomi kept waiting for something to go wrong as she crossed the town square with her parents. But she also knew what their trek looked like. One of the chancellor’s guards were transporting a couple of his new slaves from point A to B. Best not to question the movements of their chancellor’s household; there was nothing exceptional to see.

To help support that idea, Naomi kept her eyes wide with dramatized fear that gave her an easy excuse to stay alert to her surroundings. Seeing what she was doing, Ensign Wildman put her arm protectively around Naomi and, halfway to their destination, even began shooting intermittent glares at Gres’ back for the sake of onlookers.

Inwardly, Naomi grinned, and despite the stakes, that was when she started to enjoy her first mission with her parents. _Who else even got to go on missions with their parents?!_ This was even still technically her first real mission at all, no matter how sideways it had gone, and now her parents were with her on it. _Nobody got ot say that their parents had accompanied them on their very first mission!_

“ _Does it count if Commander Chakotay came with me on my first mission?_ ” Quillen asked, his thoughts slipping in with hers.

“ _Seven accompanied me on mine,_ ” Icheb added.

“ _Shut up,_ ” Naomi ordered, only partially serious.

She felt her boyfriends’ amusement in return and had to remind herself not to smile where she was.

Then Gres led them down a side-alley, and she blinked as her vision adjusted to the growing darkness.

“This is it?” Ensign Wildman asked, and both Gres and Naomi nodded.

“It’s the next building over, anyway,” Gres whispered. Grasping the electrical prod at his side, he started towards the other end of the alley, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Ensign Wildman grabbed his wrist, and Naomi was pretty sure he didn’t notice when his wife slipped the knife at his waist into her own hand. “You’re not going by yourself,” Naomi’s mother said firmly.

“Sam, if this goes sideways before we can even get in the door, I—”

“I will be right there with you, in that case,” Ensign Wildman didn’t so much as blink as she looked at her husband, and even in the darkness her eyes shimmered with a determination that Naomi had only seen on a few other occasions.

“You won’t win,” Naomi whispered to Gres.

“I know,” Gres said on a sigh, still watching Ensign Wildman for a beat before he turned to Naomi, pointed a finger firmly in her direction, and ordered, “If this goes badly, _you run_ for the transporter spot. With or without the poles, you stay with the others.”

Naomi looked at him, neither confirming or denying his request, until her mother added, “That’s an order, cadet; do you understand?”

Naomi wasn’t happy about it, but she agreed – training overcoming _her_ overprotectiveness for the moment – “Yes, ma’am.”

“There’s only two guards at the entrance,” Gres told her. “You can wait here.”

She didn’t like it, but she obeyed, sinking deeper into the shadows of the alley, and wrapping her arms around her middle to wait as her parents walked away. There was the sound of a scuffle, and then Ensign Wildman reappeared, waving her forward as she hissed, “Let’s go; I need your help!”

Naomi hurried out of the alley to join her mother, only to see her father, knocked unconscious in the repair shop doorway. But then, the guards were unconscious, too, so at least there was that. “How are we supposed to get him to the transporter site now?” she asked in exasperation.

“Maybe we don’t,” Ensign Wildman replied thoughtfully. “Help me get them all inside before we draw attention.” The two women dragged the three men just inside the door, and Naomi locked the door behind them as her mother asked, “Could we engage a set of transporter poles from here and instruct _Voyager_ to beam Gres out from here?”

“No.” But they both already knew that. “The ion storm makes it difficult enough to get a lock on people, let alone an unfamiliar pattern out of the most protected building on this planet. Try to wake him up; I’ll find something to tie up the other two with.”

Ensign Wildman shot her a strange look, muttering, “Yes, sir,” as she knelt beside her husband.

Realizing she’d just given orders to her mother, Naomi belatedly tacked on “please and thank you” as she went to find restraints. Returning with ropes, she glanced at Gres to see him mumbling in fleeting disorientation – but the guards were starting to stir, too, so Naomi prioritized restraining them. She hogtied them, ignoring their groans in favor of listening to her mother murmur, encouraging and tender, to her father.

For good measure, Naomi ripped strips from her tunic and gagged the guards before Ensign Wildman told Gres, “Stay sitting and wait here.” Of Naomi, she asked, “Transporter poles now?”

Naomi nodded, leading the way to what had been “her” station for the day. Eight transporter poles were scattered on and around the desk with her tricorder. She slipped the tricorder into her pocket, grabbed her damaged phaser from a different desk where someone else had been tasked with fixing it, then hefted the poles into her arms.

Ensign Wildman lifted the other four poles, then they lugged their equipment back to Gres at the front of the building. “If the two of us have to carry all these ourselves now,” she thought allowed. “Getting to the transporter site is going to take a lot longer.”

“I can still help,” Gres declared, easing onto his feet reaching to take poles from Naomi.

She stepped back before he could, worried at the glassy pain in his eyes.

He rolled his eyes at her. “I will be fine, and we’re on a time crunch. Hand them over.”

“Take one of mine, one of hers; that way you should still be able to lean on me if you need to,” Ensign Wildman ordered, laying out a truce with a growing urgency in her tone. Gres obeyed, tucking the two poles under his arm to lean on his wife as she ordered, “Now, let’s go.”

“Out the back,” Naomi instructed, starting in the right direction and trusting them to follow. “This way.”


	25. Chapter 25

Naomi was still on red alert as they slipped through the shadows, still waiting to be caught with the “stolen” transporter poles. There were a few times she thought she heard someone behind them, but she didn’t dare turn to check properly.

They made it almost to the beam-out site without incident, though, before Gres murmured groggily, “Do not turn around, but we’re being followed.”

Naomi’s hands curled around one of the poles in her arms, ready to swing it at someone if needed. “I hear them, too.”

“We have to warn the others,” Ensign Wildman hissed softly.

“How?” Naomi asked.

Gres stumbled as they kept walking, but caught himself and, as they got closer, began to tap erratically on one of the poles he held. Naomi looked at him in confusion.

Then Quillen declared through their bond, “Tell him Lieutenant Paris and Commander Chakotay understand. We’re arming ourselves as best we can.”

Naomi didn’t understand the communication herself, but that wasn’t important right now. They were almost to their friends, who were hiding out behind rocks most likely, waiting for them, and it was only important that they were aware of the dangers coming their way. In a whisper, she relayed Quillen’s message, and Gres stopped tapping on the pole.

Three steps later, Gres tripped over air again, but suddenly Lieutenant Torres and Icheb were there. Lieutenant Torres took Ensign Wildman’s poles, and Icheb took Gres’.

“Now!” shouted one of the guards who’d been following them.

Chaos broke loose from both sides of a sudden fight. _Voyager_ and _Aceso_ crewman alike started throwing stones, Quillen had Gres’ knife, Lieutenant Paris had Assan’s knife, Farun had his electrical prod, most of the other Vulcans were fighting bare-handed. The Celeans were fighting with phasers and blades, their own electrical prods, and even bows and arrows.

Naomi and Lieutenant Torres tried to stay out of the way, hidden from the fight so that they could set up the transporter poles.

“Gres, some help would be nice!” Lieutenant Torres called, across from Naomi as they set up separate poles.

“He’s a little busy!” Ensign Wildman called back for her husband.

Naomi glanced back to her parents, freezing for a split second as she realized what she’d seen. Gres had passed out again and was bleeding while Ensign Wildman tried to stem the flow. She took a deep breath and refocused on the pole at her fingertips.

Panicking would do no good. Setting up the poles so they could get back to _Voyager_ was useful.

Working a few steps ahead of Naomi, Lieutenant Torres took a third pole and started running for another corner of the clearing. Naomi was reaching for the fourth pole when Lieutenant Torres fell forward, an arrow in her side and the third pole rolling through the sand.

Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Whitley ran to the wounded engineer as, for one wild-eyed second, Naomi looked around for someone to take Lieutenant Torres’ place and help her set up the poles.

_ No Gres, Seven of Nine, or Ensign Kim, and no idea what the Aceso crew was capable of.  _ She scooped up a third pole and ran, setting her shoulders determinedly. _Alright, then. She could do this._

She set up the third pole, but her hands were shaking, which was slowing her down. She didn’t have time to slow down. Her _father_ and _Lieutenant Torres_ didn’t have time for her to slow down.

She had been working for years with Commander Chakotay and her spirit animal to control and manage her anxiety; now was the test on what she had learned. And she was Naomi Wildman; she was a studier, and she always aced her tests. 

That thought firmly in mind, she braced for where she had to go next, and ran to the pole that Lieutenant Torres had dropped, still near her bleeding mentor. Naomi’s stomach wrenched to see the other woman as prone as she was, breathing raggedly as she tried to focus on Lieutenant Paris and not what Ensign Whitley was doing to her wound, but just as quickly Naomi forced her gaze away from the sight and kept running with the pole in hand. 

Still, she knew that was another sight that was going to stick with her… but then, the horrible truth was that sometimes those things happened on _Voyager_ ; it was the downside to her beautiful, adventurous life, and the older she got, the more she had come to terms with it.

She moved past where Lieutenant Torres’ injuries were being treated as best as they could be, continuing to do what _she_ could by programming the fourth pole. As soon as she was done with the task, Commander Tuvok shouted, “Farun, tell them we’re ready.”

Without their comm badges to even possibly reach _Voyager_ , Farun’s bond to Solik – with him there and her on Celea – was their steadiest connection to the starship. At her father-in-law’s order, Farun must have relayed the message, because half the crew on Celea were beamed away. Lieutenants Paris and Torres, Ensign Whitley, Icheb and Quillen, Alessi and T’Meni, even Commander Chakotay all beamed disjointedly up to _Voyager_.

Still, Naomi swore in frustration because it hadn’t worked perfectly. She, Farun, Commander Tuvok, T’Pel, Ensign Assan, and her parents were all still on Celea. Still under attack, but with less than half the manpower to fight back.

_ At least Lieutenant Paris had dropped Ensign Assan’s knife to the ground before beaming away _ , Naomi thought, running towards it with the intent of picking it up just in case as she took those couple seconds to consider her options.

_ She could either attempt to reconfigure the four poles she’d already set up, or she could set up the other four poles to increase the accuracy of the signatures  _ Voyager _was receiving. The latter option had better chances of success, but would take longer, and if something happened to one of these people during that time—_

Ensign Assan halfway threw a fifth pole at her, snatching up his dagger before she could grab it. “I will attempt to help you program the other set of poles. That is your plan, isn’t it? With the highest chances for success, it’s the best option.”

_ The most logical option, he meant.  _ “Yes,” Naomi decided on the spot. “That’s the plan.”

He nodded briskly, running for a sixth pole as she hurried to the spot where she needed to program the fifth.


	26. Chapter 26

Naomi was halfway through with setting the transporter pole up when she was shoved roughly to the ground, gasping sharply when her side struck a rock as she went down. A Celean guard towered over her, and he got in one good kick to her stomach before she rolled onto her feet with the rock she’d landed on in her hand. The guard laughed at her stone while whipping a knife out of his own sheath.

_ Damn Ensign Assan for taking the knife too when he still had his electrical prod! _

The thought had barely crossed her mind before the Celean froze, fear flashing through his eyes as he dropped his knife. Naomi snatched it from the sand, meeting Ensign Assan’s eyes from where the Vulcan was suddenly there, holding the Celean at knifepoint.

_ So, that was why he’d wanted his weapon… _

Then, in a hurry to continue their work, Ensign Assan delivered a Vulcan neck-pinch to the guard, and he crumpled gracelessly to the ground.

“Thanks,” Naomi said, already turning back to her work.

“Of course,” Ensign Assan replied, giving her a quick, cataloging look over.

“I’m okay, but my dad may not be; we have to hurry,” she reminded him.

He gave her another business-like nod, running back to his own work.

It took them about seventy-five more seconds to set up the complete second set of poles, and then Naomi shouted, “Farun, tell them to try again!”

A second passed, and then… it worked. They beamed aboard _Voyager_ , and tension melted from Naomi’s shoulder’s so quickly she could’ve collapsed with relief. But they weren’t all out of danger yet.

They had beamed to a transporter room, and her mother was already ordering the transporter technician, “Beam him and I directly to sickbay.”

Naomi didn’t know exactly which way she wanted to go, until Commander Chakotay came in, taking the decision from her as he said, “The captain wants to see all of you who are able in her ready room.”

So, as her parents were transported to sickbay, Naomi walked with Commanders Chakotay and Tuvok and Commander Tuvok’s family towards the bridge. Quillen and Icheb were waiting on the bridge with the other part of Commander Tuvok’s family, and Naomi smiled at her boyfriends in greeting. Solik stepped close to Farun, the wife he hadn’t seen in months, and gave her a sedate Vulcan “kiss” by brushing their fingertips together.

“Where is my wife?” Ensign Assan asked when he glanced around the bridge without seeing Ensign Whitley.

“She remained in sickbay to help our doctor with Lieutenant Torres and Mr. Wildman,” Icheb informed Ensign Assan.

“Come see the captain first,” Commander Chakotay said with an understanding grin. “Then, I promise you, you all get to go to sickbay.”

Naomi’s stomach flipped at the idea of what the Doctor was going to find, but she knew what the procedure was for missions gone awry. Refusing to go to sickbay might cause more of a stir than being forthright about her recently discovered… condition.

_ Maybe. In any case… it didn’t really matter when she didn’t really have a choice, did it? _

Feeling her growing uncertainty, Icheb and Quillen each took one of her hands and walked with her into the captain’s ready room.

“ _You okay?_ ” Quillen asked.

“ _We have to tell her,_ ” Naomi said by way of reply.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Quillen agreed.

“ _I vote Quillen does it,_ ” Icheb said, only partially teasing as the ready room door closed behind them all.

Seven of Nine and Captain Janeway had been waiting for them, and Seven stepped up to the triad as Captain Janeway introduced herself to Farun and struck up a conversation with Ensign Assan.

“Naomi Wildman.” There was a relief in Seven’s eyes and tone that warmed Naomi’s heart. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine, yes,” Naomi said with a smile.

Yet Seven observed aloud, “You’re troubled.”

Naomi made a face. “Let’s just say it’s been a long week.”

Seven glanced over her shoulder at Captain Janeway, talking animatedly with Ensign Assan and Commander Tuvok, then turned back to Naomi, hoping to ease her worry by explaining, “This isn’t meant to be a briefing with the captain, only… checking in. To ease her mind over you all, I think. You should only have to write a report about your away mission for her to read and store in our database, per protocol.”

_ Perfect _ , Naomi thought dryly. To Seven of Nine, she only nodded with a weak smile, unsure how to continue the conversation. Compassion and confusion both flickered in Seven’s expression as she offered, “I’m sure that you can move past whatever difficulties you may have faced this week. You’re young and resilient. You will adapt, and you will overcome.”

That, at least, strengthened Naomi’s smile a little as she squeezed Seven’s hand for a second. “Thank you.” Even though she wasn’t sure she was ready to divulge exactly what was bothering her right now, it still meant a lot to hear Seven say such things. “That means a lot,” she admitted it aloud, adding almost teasingly, “And, as ever, I’m sure you’ll be right in the end.”

“Alright,” Captain Janeway called above the various conversations happening around the ready room. “As you’re each dismissed, I need you to report to sickbay for a full physical from the Doctor. The others you saw on the bridge who came from Celea should already be with the Doctor getting their physicals, too. I will be joining you all shortly to discuss further accommodations for your life here aboard _Voyager._ Farun, it’s nice to meet you; you’re dismissed, please report to sickbay. Assan, it’s a real joy to see you again.” She gave the ensign the same warm sort of smile she sometimes gave Naomi, and even Ensign Kim, adding, “You’re also dismissed to sickbay. Quillen, Icheb, you’re also dismissed, and don’t even have to go to sickbay if you don’t want to.”

Captain Janeway was in a strange mood, Naomi thought, her expression light, but her eyes sparking with both joy _and_ sadness as she ran through the list of people in the room with her. 

“Actually, Aunt Kathy,” Quillen began. “We were hoping—”

He stopped mid-sentence as Icheb said through their bond, “ _Wait, please. Let me… check some things in sickbay, first. We can tell her there if need be._ ”

“ _Check what?_ ” Naomi asked, worry punching her in the gut anew at Icheb’s obvious concern. 

Icheb didn’t answer, didn’t even let himself _think_ the answer, whatever it might’ve been.

Captain Janeway blinked at the trio expectantly before asking, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, captain,” Icheb assured her.

She glanced into each of their faces for a moment, but for now let them go, saying, “Alright. Naomi, you’re sure you’re alright?”

She was asking about the mission now, and Naomi answered in regards to that, if only that, as she replied, Yes, ma’am.”

Captain Janeway put a hand on her arm, giving her a gentle squeeze and an equally gentle smile as she said, “Good. It’s very good to have you home.”

“It’s good to be home,” Naomi replied earnestly.

Captain Janeway nodded before telling the triad, “Dismissed.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I both love and hate this chapter. This story doesn’t feel complete without it, but at the same time, this chapter feels very out of step with the rest of the story. That having been said, my love of the chapter outweighs my dislike for the “pacing” or plot issue of it’s inclusion, so here it’s going to stay.

Kathryn watched her young crewmen leave before she turned to Chakotay, carefully taking his hand in the seclusion that existed behind the closed ready room door. She felt hyperaware of everything: Tuvok, watching T’Pel watch her, T’Pel, silently studying the emotions in the room, Seven of Nine, nervously looking between the other two women, and Chakotay, who was watchful but would be fine with just a little reassurance.

Chakotay, at least, she could help easily enough, but she still moved carefully, unsure what T’Pel knew or expected, and Kathryn was unwilling to hurt her. So, Kathryn took Chakotay’s hand, resting her free hand on his chest in a familiar gesture, letting her hair hide her expression from everyone but him as her eyes asked him to remember how much she’d come to love him over the years.

She waited until he smiled softly – his answer that, yes, he knew she loved him, and he loved her too – before she asked him, “For that matter, have you been to see the Doctor yet?”

A question to which they both knew the answer.

“No, I haven’t.”

Kathryn patted his chest once, withdrawing a step. “Off you go, then. You can give me a mission report once we know you’re all still in perfect health.”

Chakotay let his hold on her hand linger for a moment before he headed for the door, the smile on his face almost letting his dimples show. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Seven, why don’t you go with him,” Kathryn suggested, thinking that Seven of Nine would very likely require a more direct form of reassurance and conversation, and that would have to come in private later. 

Kathryn realized a second later that she should’ve known better than to make her request a mere _suggestion_.

“I do not require an examination,” Seven pointed out, knowingly obtuse, in this case.

“No,” Chakotay spoke up before Kathryn could, holding out a beckoning hand to their lover. “But Icheb has had a hell of a week, and it might be nice for you to sit with him for a minute.”

Seven stared at him for a beat, fully aware of what he was trying to do, but she also knew that he wasn’t wrong. They’d all seen the lines of uncertainty and weariness in Icheb’s face, and Seven was as good a mother to the young man as he’d ever had; she’d want to help him, too, if she could. 

Kathryn watched the indecision play across Seven’s face, until she flinched in surprise when, for the first time in over a decade, she heard T’Pel’s voice, kindly reassuring Seven, “We will be kind, and nothing will happen that might upset you, you have my word. The young man, Icheb – he’s your son?”

Seven regarded T’Pel – still clearly trying to decide what to make of her – as she nodded.

“Then go be with him.”

“We’ll follow in a few minutes, I promise,” Kathryn reminded Seven, and that was when the Borg nodded in reluctant agreement and followed Chakotay back out onto the bridge and, presumably, to sickbay.

Kathryn sighed, glancing towards the window as she muttered, “And then there were three.”

“That seems to be how you prefer it,” T’Pel said very lightly, and Kathryn found she was stupidly afraid to so much as turn and look at her former lover even as she heard her footsteps approaching. “I’m not angry with you,” T’Pel said, even and kind and gentle – _and_ _gods, Kathryn had missed her!_ – as she placed a hand on Kathryn’s shoulder from behind. 

Kathryn raised her shoulder, tilting her head so that her cheek brushed T’Pel’s knuckles for a moment, and she was half-horrified when her own exhale was watery with unshed tears and a myriad of emotions. 

She was being hit again with how different her relationships to the two Vulcans behind her were. T’Pel was not, and had never been, Tuvok, and Kathryn had never related to them in the same way. Her emotions had always been closer to the surface with T’Pel, because she’d never had to compartmentalize their relationship like she had in her relationship with Tuvok, and now that their relationship was shifting – had already shifted during the time they spent apart – Kathryn was afraid. She didn’t want to lose her friend, and she couldn’t _afford_ personal drama as captain of the ship.

“People change,” T’Pel continued when Kathryn couldn’t seem to find anything to say. “And sometimes relationships change as people do. That’s alright.” T’Pel tugged her hand gently free, wrapping her arms around Kathryn’s waist instead as she continued, “Our agreement has always been that if you found someone else, we let you go. Over the years, I’ve spoken with Gres a little about an old friend of his, Commander Chakotay, and if what he has told me is still the truth about your commander, then I am willing and _glad_ to entrust you into such hands.” Kathryn could _hear_ that old ghost of a tiny smile that T’Pel wore sometimes as it came into her voice. “Not that I could keep you if I wanted to, stubborn, headstrong Captain Kathryn Janeway. 

“Truthfully… I don’t know that I… feel the need to keep you, in that sense. Tuvok has said some interesting things since we were properly reconnected through our bond, and I am… curious to see how his… plans play out between only the two of us. 

“You were there as the accepting lover that I needed when I needed you, but I am more at peace with who I am now than I was then. I will be content if only you promise me that we will always be friends, that we will always, from now on, remain in each other’s life in some capacity.”

That, Kathryn could answer easily, and as questions swirled in her mind and the knots eased out of her stomach, she answered immediately, “Always.” She stepped out of T’Pel’s loose embrace as she turned to face her, taking the Vulcans hands in her own as she admitted insufficiently, “I missed you.”

“And I missed you. Let’s not be apart like this again, then?”

The question was T’Pel’s version of lightheartedness and almost a joke, and Kathryn smiled, promising forcefully, “Never again.”

“Friends?” T’Pel requested cautiously, but her caution only came from an uncertainty of what Kathryn would do with the idea. There was no withheld emotion, no hidden heartbreak when Kathryn searched her calm, dark eyes.

Just like Kathryn’s relationship with Tuvok had cooled years ago without her barely noticing, she realized as she looked at T’Pel that the Vulcan was right. _“Sometimes relationships change as people do. That’s alright.”_ Kathryn squeezed her hands, finally feeling her own sense of peace and calm about the situation as she promised, “Yes, of course, always. The dearest of friends.”

Sometimes, Kathryn had long ago learned on this voyage, not everything ended like a fairytale; sometimes it just… ended, slipped away, or remolded itself into something different, and, at least in this instance, T’Pel was correct. It was alright.


	28. Chapter 28

Sickbay was bustling when Naomi stepped into her least favorite room in the ship with Icheb and Quillen. Lieutenant Torres was on one bio-bed, Naomi’s father was on the second, and the two little Vulcan girls, T’Meni and Alessi, were sitting together on the final one. The other crewmembers from the _Aceso_ and _Voyager_ ’s away team were milling about, waiting for the Doctor to give them a clean bill of health.

Icheb tucked his boyfriend and girlfriend as out of the way as they were going to get, standing by the door as he bid them through their bond, “ _Wait here._ ”

He slipped into the Doctor’s office, and came back with a medical tricorder, scanning Naomi with an undercurrent of dread in his emotions that made her decidedly nervous. “ _What is it_?” she asked him, not for the first time, and Icheb only shook his head.

“ _I don’t know if it’s anything yet, that’s my point_.”

“ _Icheb, I don’t understand,_ ” she attempted, feeling her own nervousness only worsening. He was trying to protect her from something, some unknown eventuality, but after the last week, she felt that she just needed him to be _honest_ with her. 

Though she couldn’t find the words to string the thought together into a sentence, he felt her emotions through their bond, and took a deep breath, letting it out on a long sigh as he met her gaze for a moment before he started to go back into the Doctor’s office. He wasn’t looking at her as he walked away, perhaps couldn’t bring himself to, as he admitted, “ _I’m checking to ensure that Ikneth did no lasting damage to you physically. And I’m going to run a few tests very quickly to try to determine… fetal… viability._ ”

“’ _Viability?’_ ” Naomi repeated, horrified. “ _As in whether or not the baby survives at all?_ ”

“ _It depends on a couple of things above all else,_ ” Icheb promised soothingly, trying to ease the growing panic he felt from his partners. “ _There may be nothing to worry about at all, but… on a scientific level, I think it’s best to be… aware of what we may or may not be facing._ ”

Quillen wrapped his hand around Naomi’s, holding on tightly as he managed to make better sense of what Icheb was saying than Naomi could at the moment. “ _You mean paternity, don’t you?_ ”

“ _Yes. Your DNA, functionally, is human, which shouldn’t be any sort of problem, when combining with half-human DNA. My DNA is… more of an unknown in terms of how it might combine with someone else’s._ ”

On one hand, Naomi genuinely didn’t care who the biological father of this fetus was; on the other hand, she suddenly, desperately hoped that this was Quillen’s child if it could make their offspring’s life easier. “ _Can you tell who the father is?_ ” she asked anxiously.

Icheb sighed as he continued running tests from inside the Doctor’s office, his emotions a confusing, messy knot. “ _Me._ ”

Naomi felt panic begin to rise in her throat anew as Quillen took a step back from her, his hand falling free of hers as he built up a disconnect that she distantly thought she and Icheb could tear down later. _If it remained relevant – if their child was going to live._

“Stupid viability,” Quillen muttered, taking another step backwards – and bumping into Captain Janeway as she entered sickbay with Commander Tuvok and T’Pel.

The two Vulcans slipped past as Captain Janeway automatically reached out to steady Quillen. “’Viability’ of what?” she asked, confusion knitting her brow as she looked at her agitated, adopted son.

Quillen shook his head, schooling his features into a false calm that the captain didn’t truly buy. “It’s nothing, Aunt Kathy.”

She hummed disbelievingly, only to look downright worried as she turned to Naomi, putting a hand on her arm as she asked, “Are you alright? You look like you could pass out.”

“I’m okay, captain,” Naomi promised faintly, not quite able to look away from Icheb, running tests that would tell them about their child’s life behind a pane of glass.

Icheb looked up suddenly, meeting her eyes for a second before he loped out of the office and towards them, assuring Captain Janeway, “We’re all okay, captain.” Within the privacy of their bond, he added, “ _The fetus should be fine._ ”

Naomi arched her eyebrows at him, wary to believe him now that he’d given her a reason to doubt in the first place.

It was Quillen who asked, “ _Just like that, ‘fine?’_ ”

“ ** _She_** _will need to have a nasal surgery as soon as she’s born due to a complication in the cartilage structure as it’s influenced by both Naomi’s horns and Ktarian disposition towards ridged eyebrows as well as my own…_ ”

Icheb paused, unsure what the term was, and Quillen supplied, “ _Roman nose?_ ”

Icheb nodded as Naomi asked, “ _Is it dangerous to… oh, wow… to her?_ ”

“ _No_ ,” Icheb smiled gently at her. “ _She’ll have to be hooked up to a ventilator for a few minutes, because I doubt she’ll be able to breathe on her own until it’s corrected, but it won’t be difficult to fix. Once we explain the situation to the Doctor – with maybe Lieutenant Paris or I assisting him if it’s needed – I’m sure he will be fully prepared to perform the surgery seamlessly once the time comes._ ”

Quillen glanced over at his “Aunt Kathy,” echoing back a part of what Icheb had said. “ _Once we explain the situation._ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” Naomi agreed expectantly. “ _We have to. At least to our parents._ ”

As if to punctuate her statement, Seven of Nine walked into sickbay with Ensign Kim and Miral Paris. 

“ _Well, then, you two have fun with that,_ ” Quillen replied merrily, making a move as if to slide past the others to the door as Miral ran to her parents. 

“Where are you going?” Naomi asked aloud, she was so alarmed at his movement.

Seeing her upset, Seven of Nine slipped in front of Quillen, blocking him from the exit as Ensign Kim inquired, “Everything okay?”

“They say they’re fine,” Captain Janeway replied skeptically when none of the triad answered. “And I’ve got enough going on that I’m tempted to let you off the hook for now. But you,” she turned and pointed at Quillen. “Weren’t you going to tell me something back in my ready room?”

Now Quillen shrugged. “Not my story to tell, as it turns out.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Naomi blurted, the words coming from her mouth before they were properly processed in her mind. “This is as much your business as it is Icheb’s or mine.”

“No,” Quillen objected gently, confusion and hurt spiking in his eyes. “It isn’t.”

“Yes,” Icheb grabbed his face, stared deep and stern into his eyes. “It is. And I really, sincerely hope that you’re not stupid enough to walk away from our Wildman right now.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Naomi agreed, trying to lighten Quillen’s mood as she reached for his hand, half drowning him in reassurances via their bond.


	29. Chapter 29

“What does being a Wildman have to do with anything?” the captain asked the triad.

Ensign Kim added suspiciously, “And why is it something that would make you feel left out, Quillen?”

“You, don’t do that,” Quillen requested of Ensign Kim, turning his face out of Icheb’s grasp to look at the older ensign. “Don’t make parallels to your life that make me feel stupid.”

“Then don’t say stupid stuff like this isn’t yours,” Lieutenant Torres called, sitting upright on the biobed now with Miral and Lieutenant Paris at her side. “If I’m right about what you’re talking about over there, that is.”

“What _are_ you talking about?” Ensign Wildman asked, looking between the trio. “Because you’re clearly not all alright.”

The triad looked at each other, each of them trying to find the words, trying to find the bravery to speak of their unborn baby in a way that would make her a definite reality in their lives aboard _Voyager_ … but nothing they could come up with seemed sufficient.

Captain Janeway was sorting through their conversation behind her eyes, Naomi could tell, and suddenly she asked quietly, “Are you sure you don’t want parallels, because there’s a conversation I had once – so many years ago now – that I could probably to this day repeat almost verbatim.”

“Was it an important conversation?” Quillen asked, and Naomi could tell that he hoped to distract them from the topic at hand until the trio had a better grasp on where they wanted to go from here. But when had life aboard _Voyager_ ever given them that option before, and why should it start now?

“It was to me,” Captain Janeway answered. “It was one of those conversations that underscored and galvanized why it was so very important – why it _is_ so important – for this crew to get home.” Looking between the trio, she asked, “Would you mind? I think, if I’ve come to the correct conclusion in the middle of talk of something that belongs to two but not a third, and talk of… not abandoning ‘your Wildman’ – if I’m right, I could make this a lot simpler for the three of you.”

“Okay,” Naomi decided for the triad, when her boyfriends let their hesitation go on for too long.

Captain Janeway stepped away from the triad, putting space between herself and them before she asked Naomi, “Can you come here, please?”

An idea flashed through her boyfriends’ minds within the space of an instant, and as Naomi stepped forward, they made a show of looping arms with her and stepping up, too, on either side of her.

Captain Janeway looked towards Commander Chakotay with a bittersweet smile. “I’m right, and, for the record, we’ve been in this quadrant too long – two generations too long, in fact.”

“Oh?” Commander Chakotay asked. “What makes you say that?”

“The answer to this question,” she replied. When the captain turned to the triad, Naomi was surprised when Captain Janeway gently reached out and swept the hair out of Naomi’s face, her eyes filled with a well of maternal love. “Wildman,” she asked, quiet and blunt. “Are you pregnant?”

The captain had read the situation exactly right, but Naomi still wasn’t sure how to _tell_ her that, so she only nodded as she did her best to sort out her thoughts. “I know – believe me, I _know_ – that this isn’t the best place to raise a baby, but—” A look Naomi couldn’t interpret crossed the captain’s face, and it made her flounder, made her look away towards her parents, then around the room.

Lieutenant Paris, who had been as much a father to her as anyone, sitting with Lieutenant Torres, who had made a point of teaching her she should always stand tall, so that, if nothing else, Miral, sitting now beside her mother, knew she could do the same.

Ensign Kim had brought her to this ship as an infant, and in the years to follow he’d often worked in the background of her life, from making Flotter, to urging her to sort out her relationship with her boyfriends at it’s beginning, to now, guarding the sickbay door in a way that told Naomi he was willing to speak up again if it was needed.

Captain Janeway, who had taught her _how_ to stand tall and speak authoritatively when needed. Commander Chakotay, who had taught her how to fight – in hand-to-hand, with weapons, and against her own emotions and anxiety as that, too, was needed.

Commander Tuvok, who, of all people, had given her real space to grieve the father she’d grown up without, while also being her most constant schoolteacher.

Seven of Nine, who’d been her first best friend, and the first mentor Naomi realized she had, the woman who had taken in the father of Naomi’s child.

A child who would now grow up aboard _Voyager_ as Naomi had.

And despite the anxiety that Nami had felt growing up, if her child could grow up with these people to help her… maybe she’d be okay, after all.

“You know what? I take that back.” She planted her hands on her hips, a calm confidence loosing her tongue as she momentarily met her mother’s gaze.

Her mother, Ensign Samantha Wildman, who had encompassed a little of each of the other officers to her as Naomi had grown up. Though she’d grown up with a plethora of mentors, role models, and heroes, it was her mother who had always stood above the rest. She was Naomi’s _mother_ , and a good one at that, despite everything they were constantly being faced with aboard _Voyager_.

Pregnant, and now already worried for her own baby, Naomi looked at her mother in a whole new light, filled with adoration and in awe of her quiet strength – and she hoped that she could be half as good a mother herself.

Yet, she knew her mom better than most, and she saw the worry simmering beneath the surface of her gaze. _But the, she almost always worried, didn’t she?_

“This was a _great_ place to grow up,” Naomi declared fiercely. “I’d like to think I ended up pretty alright thanks to you, Mom, and this fantastic command team. So, while I’m at it, thanks for that.” She’d let her tone lighten, drifting towards an ease and a confidence that she was beginning to really feel with her boyfriends on either side of her, and the rest of their extended family surrounding them. “And I just have one more question: are you all ready to take on another little Wildman?”

Icheb and Quillen had been talking back and forth through the bond, Icheb reassuring Quillen of his place with this child that would belong to the three of them, and Naomi could feel how well it had worked as Quillen leaned into her, declaring bravely, “Let’s do it!”

Naomi laughed happily as Captain Janeway nodded firmly towards her son. “I like the sound of that much better,” the captain informed him. 

“Me, too,” Naomi agreed, looking around the room at her family again as she firmly sent the thought through her bond with her boyfriends, “ _No matter what comes next, together, we can do this.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I hate to say "goodbye" to this universe that I've loved writing in, this series - alongside the Sufficiency and Insurrection trilogies - has been the story I've wanted to tell since I first got into ST:V last year. I'm happy with the result, and I don't want to take away from the universe by adding unnecessary stories to it that begin to take away from what's already here.
> 
> That having been said, there are a couple more headcanons that I have for this 'verse that I'm throwing in here just because I can, even though I couldn't find a good spot to insert them into the story itself:  
> 1\. Harry Kim becomes baby Anika's godfather.  
> 2\. Asil mates with and marries Ensign Vorik.
> 
> I'd love to receive feedback from my readers, especially at the end of a project like this! Thanks!


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